


What Would Matilda Do?

by hansolo



Series: WWMD [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First year at Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione are twins, Matilda - Freeform, Multi, Potter Twins, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Standard First Year Fic, Unsure of pairings yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 37,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24915973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hansolo/pseuds/hansolo
Summary: Harry and Hermione Potter, known more commonly in the Wizarding World as The-Twins-Who-Lived, discover Matilda by Roald Dahl when they are 8 years old.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter
Series: WWMD [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803064
Comments: 89
Kudos: 588





	1. Matilda

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first planned out big fanfiction. I last posted a very lame McDanno fic on FF about eight years ago, but have otherwise not done much. The premise of this fic is that Harry and Hermione are twins, and my plan for this story is to have them discovering their magic powers and what it means for them, using the book Matilda as a vehicle to do so. They share a psychic bond that enables them to speak to each other directly. Mind speak is indicated by < xx >. It will then follow a fairly standard first year at Hogwarts fic. Happy for any feedback.

When Harry and Hermione Potter were eight years old, they read a very important book that would go on to change their lives. 

They were hiding in the library as usual – it was the best place to avoid Dudley and his gang – and Hermione had picked up a book called Matilda. It was by Roald Dahl and Hermione had read his other books and quite enjoyed them. She poked Harry through the bond they shared and they both sat down to read it together. 

When they finished the book, there was a buzzing feeling between the two of them. It was Harry who broke the silence first. 

< She’s like you, Mi, > he said through the bond, using his nickname for her. He’d been unable to pronounce her name when they were younger, only calling her Mi Mi. In return, she had called him Me Me. < You love to read, and you’re the smartest person I know. You’ve even read some of those books like Matilda. >

Hermione had flicked back to an earlier part of the book and was staring down at it with a hard look on her face. Harry sent a question mark through the bond. 

< I wish we could get revenge like Matilda does. It would be great to put itching powder in Uncle Vernon’s pants, wouldn’t it? > She re-read the lines about how angry Matilda felt, how the anger kept on boiling inside of her. Hermione knew that feeling better than most. 

< It would be great, but the week in the cupboard after it would be the opposite of that, > Harry replied, his expression darkening as he remembered all the time spent confined in the cupboard. 

< I want to be Matilda, Me. I don’t want to be like Miss Honey. You read what happened to her. That’s what Uncle Vernon is like, he’s like Trunchbull. I bet he’d throw us out a window if he could. If we had money, he would definitely take it. What if we get to be twenty like Miss Honey and we’re still in that cupboard? >

< Well, for starters, what do we have? > he said. She shot him a tired yet fond look. 

< Just Me and Mi. What do we have? >

< Just me and mine, > he said, finishing off their childish statement. They’d been saying those words to each other for as long as they could remember. A promise that, in a world as harsh and cruel as theirs, they would always have each other. < So, we’ve already got something that Miss Honey didn’t. We won’t end up like that. We’ll get free one day Mi, I promise. When we finish school, we can go anywhere, and we never have to see Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia again. And, if we really want, when we’re older and bigger, we can get revenge. >

< What if we did it like Matilda? I bet we could learn to push things over with our eyes. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing. Remember when you grew back all your hair overnight? Or when I shrunk that really ugly jumper? Maybe we could be like Matilda. > Hermione looked over at her brother imploringly. 

< Guess it won’t hurt to try. >

-/-

Later that night, locked up in their cupboard, they were squished against each other as they sat looking at the broken toy soldier in front of them. 

< So, what do we do? > Harry asked, rubbing his arms to try and get some warmth. Winter was always a dismal time in the cupboard, the cracks in the floor made the thin mattress cold and the threadbare blankets did little to fend off the chill. 

< Well, in the book, Matilda got really angry when Trunchbull was yelling at her and she focussed on the glass of water and thought about it tipping over, and thought really really hard while focussing on it, so I guess we try that. >

Neither of them had any difficulty getting angry. Hermione often felt she had more rage in her than anything else, felt it burning under her skin. They let the fury slowly build in the bond until they felt nothing else. On instinct, they raised their hands towards the toy soldier and, as one, thought ‘PUSH’ over and over, trying to direct their anger at the toy. 

They felt something shiver deep inside of them as they continued to focus. In a blink, their shared anger flared white hot and the toy soldier tipped over. Hermione grinned as a wave of exhaustion washed over them. 

< Matilda knows what to do. We have to keep practicing and practicing, seeing what else we can do with these powers, and one day we can get revenge just like she did. > She nodded at her brother who slumped backwards. 

< Maybe we can magically create warmer blankets, > he said, closing his eyes. Hermione curled up around him.


	2. Snakes and Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for reading my first chapter.  
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >  
> Parseltongue is in italics.  
> Hope you like my second chapter. Feel free to leave kudos or a comment.

The two- and a-bit years that followed Harry and Hermione first reading Matilda were filled with incredible change. They had long since nicked the book out of the library and it was kept stuffed down the narrow end of their cupboard, safe from prying eyes. Reading and re-reading the sneaky rebellions of Matilda, as well as Lavender and Hortensia was one of Hermione’s favourite things to do. She had Hortensia’s Crusaders speech memorised. The pages were lovingly well-worn.

Both Harry and Hermione had, over the years, pushed many a cup of milk or glass of wine over onto Uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley. They had even, on one occasion, sourced some itching powder and placed it in Dudley’s pants, although both agreed that the beating from that particular incident had meant it was hardly worth it. As much as they hated it, at least being locked in the cupboard as punishment meant they could pretend they were locked in the Chokey, like Hortensia had been after her heroics. They also rarely starved in the cupboard anymore. They were now very adept at pushing and lifting things with their powers and had eventually upgraded to floating foods out of various stores and into their bags. They both rather thought it was something Matilda would have done.

Unfortunately, unlike Matilda, they never got away with anything; such was the nature of the Dursley household - anything remotely unusual was blamed on the twins. This didn’t stop Hermione from continuing to studiously map out their plans for revenge however.

As it was, they were on their way to the zoo for Dudley’s birthday, and both Harry and Hermione were thinking about how they could somehow incorporate a flying motorcycle into their various revenge plans after Uncle Vernon had screamed in their faces about one. They continued to ponder it as they wandered around the zoo.

< Unfortunately, Mi, we might have to save Uncle Vernon getting run over by a motorcycle until we’re a bit older, > said Harry, only half joking, whilst looking at a large anaconda sleeping on a rock. Dudley was furiously tapping at the glass, trying to get it to move.

< It wouldn’t necessarily have to run him over. Lifting it up and dropping it on him would fulfil the flying part of it well enough, but I take your point. I don’t know where we’d get a motorcycle from anyway, > she replied.

< Yes, that’s the only problem with the plan, > Harry rolled his eyes and went back to gazing at the snake. He was admiring the shiny scales when the snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. It slowly raised its head until its eyes were on the same level as Harry and Hermione’s and they were engaged in an odd three-way staring contest.

“ _Glad the glass is there_ ,” Hermione remarked, unaware that she had switched languages.

“ _I would never hurt a Speaker_ ,” replied the snake. Harry felt his eyes just about pop out of his skull.

“ _Can you understand me_?” he asked, gobsmacked.

“ _Of course I can. You are both Speakers_ ,” came a rather snarky reply. The snake swivelled its head back and forth looking at them. “ _A speaker has never come to visit me before though_.”

Before any of them could process this any further, there was a deafening shout from Dudley.

“Mum! Dad! Come and look at this snake! You won’t believe what it’s doing!” He gave Harry an almighty shove who promptly toppled onto his sister and they both hit the hard floor with a thump. Dudley took care to step on Hermione’s outstretched hand as he walked towards the snake. Harry felt his sister’s pain echo through the bond and shot a look of pure hatred at his bloated cousin. He felt Hermione seize on his emotions and watched – in slow motion, it felt like – as she threw out her injured hand towards Dudley who suddenly went flying back head-over-large-bottom.

He felt like putting his head in his hands; he could already picture the long week in the cupboard that was going to await them after this.

< Well, Matilda couldn’t talk to snakes, Me. I wonder what else we can do that she couldn’t, > Hermione mused. Harry marvelled at her ability to keep planning while Uncle Vernon was, quite literally, bearing down on them with a vengeance.

-/-

They ended up spending two weeks in the cupboard for the snake incident. Hermione was quite put out as she wanted to get out into the garden and see if they could find any more snakes. Harry was put out because they’d run out of food ten days in, and he was starting to get very hungry again.

They passed the time by continuing to levitate everything in their cupboard until they were exhausted and debating whether or not they would be able to convince a snake to scare their cousin. It was summer holidays when they got out. They were both quite excited as this meant, for the first time, that they would be going to a different school to Dudley.

< Just think, Me. First of all, no-one knows us at this new school. Dudley won’t be there. That means we could make friends. Secondly, because Dudley isn’t there, we can actually do well at school and not have to pretend to be dumb. >

< You mean I won’t have to pretend to be dumb, > Harry said wryly. < How many times did you decide to beat Dudley in a test in the name of revenge? I lost count of those punishments if I’m being honest. >

< My point stands, > she replied snidely, but Harry could feel her undercurrent of pride at both beating Dudley and getting good marks. < Now hurry up with the mail, I need help finishing the breakfast. >

Four things lay on the doormat: a postcard from the hateful Aunt Marge, a brown envelope that looked like a bill and two yellowed enveloped addressed to Harry and Hermione. Harry stared down at the two envelopes he’d picked up. They were thick and heavy, made of smooth parchment, with the address written in flowing green cursive.

< Mi, > he poked. < There are weird looking letters here for us. > He could feel her confusion through the bond. They had never gotten anything in the post before. Doing so would require friends or living relatives who didn’t despise them.

< Well, assuming you haven’t just temporarily lost your mind, put them in the cupboard. Best not let Uncle Vernon see them, > Hermione replied.


	3. What the fuck is a Mugwump?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >  
> Parseltongue is in italics.  
> Hermione's childish nickname is Mi, and Harry's is Me. 
> 
> Hope you like the story so far. Please feel free to leave kudos or comments.

< It is possible that we’ve finally gone mad, > said Harry, as they looked down at the letters. They were cramped in the small dusty cupboard that had served as their bedroom their entire lives, not big enough for one child, let alone two.

< Folie a deux, > Hermione replied, < the shared delusion. >

< Well, we share everything else, > he said wryly. < Can’t hurt to read the letters if we’ve already gone mad. > They looked down at the cursive writing again.

_Miss H.J. Potter Mr H.J. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive 4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging Little Whinging_

_Surrey Surrey_

< Go on then, > Hermione said, before Harry could say anything. < You first. > She gave him a shove and giggled. He stuck his tongue back at his sister before opening the letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY.

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Silence stretched out between the two of them as they took in the bizarre words.

< I mean, I’d say it was an elaborate prank, but … who would bother to prank us? Also who knows where we sleep? That’s a bit creepy. What does it mean, they await our owl? What the fuck is a Mugwump? > Harry was starting to babble so Hermione elbowed him.

< Well, that means that magic is real, and this Hogwarts is also real. Think about it. It would certainly explain a few things, > Hermione said. < Like our powers and the snakes we can talk to. > She smiled briefly, thinking again of the large snake at the zoo.

< Alright, I don't know that we've fully given the 'we might be mad' thing enough thought but let's assume magic is real. How are we going to approach this? > Harry said. 

< We’re going to need to be smart about it, > Hermione said, rolling her eyes. < If history is anything to go by, the Dursleys aren’t going to be happy about this. They hate even the word magic and - >

< They know, > Harry blurted, interrupting his sister.

< What? >

< Think about it. Think of all the ways they’ve ever reacted to any mention of magic, to anything remotely strange. To the punishment we’ve only just finished for throwing Dudley back at the zoo, > Harry said. They sat in silence for a while pondering.

< Ok, well assuming that they know, then how do they know? They’re definitely not going to be happy either way but there’s nothing we can do about that right now. Come on, Me. Let’s not imagine the beating before it’s happened. We need more information. We need a plan, and step one is going to be figuring out how to reply to this letter. Don’t suppose you’re hiding an owl in all that hair of yours? > Hermione grinned at her brother who shot her a withering look.

< You’re one to talk, > he said, gesturing at her wild curls. < We’ll just have to send it in the normal post and hope magic does the rest. We can use the same envelope they sent, and just scribble out our address, and then tear off a bit of this … I can’t believe this is parchment. Like what century is this? Tear off some of this parchment and write a reply. >

< And we’ll need to ask where the fuck we get all these things from. I mean, a cauldron? > Hermione said, starting to scribble down on the parchment. < We can sneak out early tomorrow morning to find a postage box, but we’ll have to keep a close eye on any letters the next few days to make sure we get the mail before the Dursleys do. >

< I agree. I don’t know how they’ll react, but I doubt it’ll be good. We won’t tell them unless absolutely necessary. Once we have more information, we can start working on one of your infamous plans, > Harry said, smiling fondly at Hermione.

< Ok, so I’ve written that we accept the offer and then asked where these supplies are available and how to get there. Is there anything else you can think of? > Harry shook his head in reply.

-/-

The next day they crept quietly out of the cupboard – long since having learnt how to unlock it – and out the front door. Harry tripped down the front step in surprise.

There was an owl sitting on the fence.

< Maybe I didn’t actually wake up today, > Hermione mused, staring at the owl. It hooted imperiously at them and stuck out its leg. < This certainly isn’t bad as far as dreams go. >

< Give the fucking owl the letter before someone notices, > Harry grumbled, wiping gravel and dirt off his knees.


	4. Busted Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >
> 
> Hope you like the story so far. Thanks to everyone who has left kudos. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave kudos or comments.

Harry was serving breakfast while Hermione made tea when there was a very loud knock on the front door. The Dursleys made confused faces at each other, before Petunia went to answer it.

They heard her scream loudly and slam the door. She came hurrying back into the dining room, face pale, pointing at Harry and Hermione. Before she could say anything, there was a deafening crash followed by loud footsteps coming down the hallway. A giant of a man emerged through the hallway door. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild beard. He seemed simply too large to be allowed. He was wearing a long brown moleskin coat and his hands were the size of dustbin lids.

“Hullo,” said the man, smiling around. “Couldn’t make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh, Hermione? Since yeh got the kettle out.” He turned to face Harry. “And hullo to you, Harry. Blimey, las’ time I saw yehs, yehs was only babies. Yer both look like yer dad, but I can see yeh’ve got yer mum’s eyes.”

Harry, who was watching Uncle Vernon’s face slowly turn puce with rage, was wondering if one of his magical powers was the ability to turn invisible or sink through floors. Hermione weakly agreed with him through the bond.

< Well, operation keep-this-a-secret has spectacularly blown up in our faces, > she said. < Bit rude of them to just send someone around instead of replying to our letter. >

< He literally ripped the door off the hinges, Hermione, and Uncle Vernon is literally going to rip us limb from limb. I think we’ve passed ‘a bit rude’. >

The large man was smiling at them expectantly as they stood there mutely. Aunt Petunia still seemed to be working through the five stages of grief, but Uncle Vernon had solidly landed in anger.

“I demand that you leave at once, you overgrown freak!” he blustered. “You are breaking and entering!”

“Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune,” the man-slash-giant said, settling down in the sofa which groaned under the weight, before again turning to Harry and Hermione who were having an argument through the bond about who was going to hide behind who. Hermione won, and pushed Harry forward.

“Sorry,” Harry said, cursing everything about the situation, “who are you?”

“True, I haven’t introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, but call me Hagrid. Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Yeh’ll know all about Hogwarts, o’ course,” Hagrid said.

“No,” Hermione said loudly, sticking her head out from behind Harry. “What’s that?”

< Shut up, > she sent through the bond. < We received no letter, we know nothing about nothing, and we certainly did NOT send a letter that has led to this man breaking down the front door. >

Hagrid looked shocked, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back at his glare.

“Do you mean ter tell me that these two know nothin’ abou’ anythin’?” he roared at them.

Harry was wondering how long they’d be locked in the cupboard for this time and was mentally calculating how many days until September 1st.

“We swore when we took them in that we’d put a stop to that rubbish,” said Uncle Vernon, regaining his bluster. “Swore we’d stamp it out of them!”

< Ha! Fucking knew it. I told you they knew, > Harry exclaimed triumphantly.

< Priorities, Me, > Hermione replied tersely.

“Go boil yer head, Dursley, you useless lump. Harry, yeh’re a wizard, and Hermione, yeh’re a witch. And you’ll be thumpin’ good’uns once yeh’ve been trained up a bit.” Hagrid smiled at them. “I’ve got copies of yer Hogwarts letters with me, so we know what ta get.”

Harry was trying to look surprised and also think of something vaguely intelligent to say but was saved by Uncle Vernon’s ongoing determination to argue.

“I told you, they’re not going to that cursed freak school –“

“You knew?” Hermione interrupted in a plaintive voice. < Just stirring the pot, > she smirked to Harry, who internally rolled his eyes.

< Now who’s got the wrong priorities? >

“Of course we knew!” Aunt Petunia shrieked suddenly. “How could you two not be? Your dratted mother and father both went there. I remember when Lily got her letter. Our mother and father were so proud of having a witch in the family. I was the only one who saw her for what she really was – a freak! She’d come home for the holidays, her pockets full of disgusting frogspawn, having learnt how to turn teacups into rats and other useless things. Then she met that Potter freak and got married and had you two. I knew you’d be just the same, just as strange and abnormal, a pair of freaks. And then, she went and got herself blown up. Killed in that wizarding war they were fighting, and we got landed with you.” She was breathing very heavily by the end, with a mad glint in her eyes.

< So not a car crash, > Hermione said, feeling like her legs had been cut out from under her. < Suppose that’s what I get for stirring the pot. >

“They’re goin’ ter Hogwarts. I’d like ter see a great Muggle like you stop them,” Hagrid blasted, before standing up again. “Come on, you two. Lots ter do today, gotta buy all yer stuff fer school.”

< Well, he’s probably less likely to immediately kill us than Uncle Vernon is, so let’s go with him, > Harry joked weakly.

-/-

“Hagrid. What did Aunt Petunia mean when she said that our parents got killed in a wizarding war? I thought they died in a car crash,” Hermione asked, half jogging to keep up with the ginormous man.

“A car crash?!” Hagrid exclaimed, looking down at them. “Do yers really not know yer own story? Every kid in our world knows yers names.”

< That’s disquieting, > Hermione said.

“What do you mean, ‘everyone knows our names’?” Harry asked nervously. He frowned as Hagrid suddenly looked anxious.

“I never expected this,” he said, in a low voice. “I mean, Dumbledore told me there might be some trouble, but yers don’ know anythin’, do yers?” He looked quite pensive. “I’ll try to tell yeh what I know, and that starts with You-Know-Who –“

“Who?” Hermione interrupted.

“You-Know-Who,” Hagrid said.

“I don’t know who,” Hermione snapped back. < What the fuck is he talking about? > She hated not knowing things.

“It’s a person. I don’ like sayin’ the name, no-one does,” he said.

“Why not?” Harry said. “It’s a name.”

“Gulpin’ Gargoyles, you lot. People are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, this wizard went bad. As bad as you can go. Worse even. His name was … Voldemort. Don’ make me say it again. He had all these followers and it was dark days, there were terrible things happenin’. People went missin’, people gettin’ tortured. He was takin’ over. It was war. One o’ the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. An’ this is where you lot turn up. No-one knows why but he turned up in the village where yers was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. Yers was just one years old, the pair o’ yeh. He came ter yer house an’, well, he killed ‘em, he did. Killed yer parents. An’ then, an’ this is the real mystery o’ the thing – he tried to kill yers both too. Dunno why, yers was jus’ babes. But he couldn’t do it. Thas how yers got those scars on yer heads. Thas no ordinary cut; thas from a powerfully evil curse. He killed hundreds of witches and wizards, but he couldn’t kill yers.” Hagrid had gone pale by the end of the story.

“Why not? What happened to him?” Hermione asked, her stomach churning.

“Good question. Disappeared. Vanished. Some say he died but I dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he’s still out there, bidin’ his time cause he’s lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. I dunno what it was but somethin’ about yers stumped him that night, and thas why yers are famous. Thas why the whole world knows yer names.”

< Everything we’ve ever known is a lie, > Harry said, feeling his chest getting tight. A cacophony of emotions whirled back and forth across the bond; anger, confusion, despair, and an overwhelming sense of grief.

< I know, Me, but listen to me. Later, we will work through this. Right now, we have to get as much information as we can out of this giant. > Hermione grabbed her brother’s hand and squeezed. Together, they slowly pushed all emotion out of the bond and felt their minds settle into a faint numbness.

“Thank you for telling us all of this, Hagrid,” Harry said, taking a deep breath in. “Now, where are we going? What’s the plan for today?” When in doubt, fall back to a plan.

“Firs’ stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank, run by goblins –“

“There are goblins?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah – so yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it, I’ll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe – ‘cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o’ fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business.” Hagrid looked down at them proudly. “He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin’ yers today and all those years ago – gettin’ things from Gringotts – knows he can trust me, see.”

“Hang on,” Harry said, trying to ignore his sister’s whirling thoughts on goblins and other magical creatures as he tried to get his own thoughts straight. “Hagrid, we don’t have any money, and Uncle Vernon definitely won’t pay for anything. What are we going to do?”

“Don’ worry about that. D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything? Yers are Potters, yers got loads o’ money in Gringotts so – “

“Hang on again,” Hermione interrupted. “What did you mean when you said you fetched us all those years ago?”

“I took yehs from the ruined house myself that night, on Dumbledore’s orders. Brought yers to the Dursleys. Actually brought yers on a flying motorbike that I got from Sirius Black.”

Hermione was unable to stop a deep wave of fury rushing through her and Harry at the large man’s words. He was the one who had taken them to the Dursleys! Harry grabbed her hand before she could do anything too insane. 

< We just need to get through today and then we can sort all this out and come up with a plan, > Harry said, trying to calm his sister down, who was still furiously processing everything that had been said. < Like you said before, we have to get all the information we can out of Hagrid. Mi, we can get him back later, if you really want. > He looked imploringly at her, and she finally allowed him to push the emotion out of the bond again.

Hagrid seemed unaware of the turmoil around him. They had arrived at the train station and he was loudly pointing at perfectly ordinary things around him and trying to get through the ticket barrier without breaking it.

Hermione gritted her teeth and dragged Harry after the large man and onto the train.


	5. Gringotts Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a filler chapter.  
> Thanks everyone for reading so far. 
> 
> Mind speak indicated by < xx >
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment or kudos :)

They were in front of a tiny, grubby-looking pub titled the Leaky Cauldron. The general hubbub of London swirled around them, eyes peculiarly sliding over the dingy pub.

< No-one else can see it, > Hermione realised. < I wonder if you can do a similar thing to a person. It would be pretty cool to sneak around and have people just not notice you. > Harry mentally pinched the bridge of his nose.

< Maybe we could get our school robes and then later think about ways to do nefarious things, do you think? > he ribbed.

The inside of the pub did nothing to improve their opinion of the place. It was dark and shabby and there were not enough clear exits for their comfort. Worse, everyone seemed to know Hagrid, so everyone was looking their way. The barman was currently offering Hagrid his usual.

“Can’t, Tom, I’m on Hogwarts business,” said Hagrid, pushing both Hermione and Harry in front of him. He didn’t notice how much they stiffened at the contact. Every single eye turned to stare at the twins and the entire Leaky Cauldron went completely still and silent.

< Oh, this is bad, > Harry said, before loud scraping noises echoed as every single person stood up to move towards them.

“Bless my soul,” said the old barman, “it **is** Harry and Hermione Potter. The-Twins-Who-Lived. In my pub. What an honour.” There were tears in his eyes as he shook their hands.

< I think this is better than the Dursleys, > Hermione said. < But literally only by a fraction. Do they really mean for us to shake every single fucking person’s hand? What the fuck is wrong with these people? > Both of them were having their hands grabbed and shook by everyone in the Leaky Cauldron. Some people were bowing, and some were even crying. It was at least ten minutes before Hagrid tried to make himself heard over the noise, insisting to everyone that they did really have lots to buy, before using his bulk to usher them out of the pub again.

“Told yehs, didn’t I? Told yehs you were famous,” Hagrid said, smiling down at them. ‘Wasn’ tha’ fun?”

Harry quickly nodded before his sister could tell him what she really thought. Hagrid turned to the brick wall in front of them and started counting. They both watched in amazement as he tapped the wall three times and the bricks started quivering and shaking, before a hole slowly started to widen in the wall, until they were standing in front of an archway.

“Welcome to Diagon Alley,” said Hagrid.

-/-

< I suppose the one good thing about Hagrid is that he’s so large and apparently so well-known that no-one looks twice at us when he’s around, > Hermione said. < Unless he literally shoves us forward into people’s faces. >

They were now in Gringotts, a beautiful white and gold building. Goblins, it appeared, were short creatures with sharp teeth, pointed ears, long fingers, and beady black eyes. There were hundreds of them, and Hermione was eyeing off the large rubies that one of them was currently examining.

< Could we maybe see what’s in this bank account of ours before we rob the place? > Harry sniped. Hermione mentally elbowed him.

“Morning,” said Hagrid, having herded them towards a counter. “We’ve come ter take some money outta the Potter’s safe.”

“And do you have the key, sir?” the goblin asked, looking unimpressed.

“Got it here somewhere,” said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of mouldy dog biscuits over the goblin’s book of numbers. Harry and Hermione watched incredulously as the man pulled more and more things out of his pockets, before finally holding up a tiny golden key. “An’ I’ve also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore. It’s about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen.”

“Very well,” said the goblin, after reading the letter carefully. “I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!”

“What’s the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?” Hermione asked, as Griphook, another goblin, led them down a dark and narrow stone passageway.

“Can’t tell yeh that,” Hagrid said mysteriously. “Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore’s trusted me. More’n my job’s worth ter tell yeh that.”

Hermione shot a look at her brother as Griphook whistled. A small cart came hurtling up the tracks towards them. < Ten bucks says that Hagrid wouldn’t even notice if we magicked it out of his pockets. There’s certainly enough junk in them, > she said, as they climbed into the cart. Harry’s reply was cut off by the cart taking off suddenly, hurtling them through a maze of twisting passages. Both Hermione and Hagrid looked very green when the cart finally stopped. Harry, annoyingly to Hermione, looked fine. Hagrid was leaning against the wall trembling as Griphook unlocked the door in front of them.

Hermione gasped as the door swung open. The vault was filled with mounds of gold, silver, and bronze coins. It was more money than either of them had even begun to imagine.

< Holy fucking shit, Mi. We’re like richy rich rich, > Harry said, his eyes popping out at the wealth in front of him. He could hear his sister’s brain whirring through different plans as she took in all the money.

< Ok, we need to know what these different coins mean, and what the conversion rates are. And we need to grab literally as much of this as we can carry, because with all of this fucking money, there is NO fucking way we’re going back to the Dursleys before school starts. I am NOT going back to that cupboard. We could stay at the fucking Ritz. Now go and distract Hagrid and find out what the coins are, and I’ll stash as much as I can. >

“Wow Hagrid. This is so much!” Harry said, trying to look wide-eyed. “What are all these different coins?” He realised immediately after that he didn’t need to put on the act as Hagrid was still leaning up against the wall with his eyes closed.

“The gold ones are Galleons. Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it’s easy enough. A galleon is ten pounds. Grab enough fer a couple o’ terms and don’t talk to me again until we’re back up top. It’s best if I keep me mouth shut,” Hagrid replied quickly, before clamping his mouth shut again. Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to the mounds of gold and started to shovel some into his backpack.

-/-

Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole. They watched curiously as Griphook stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

“If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they’d be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” said Griphook.

“How often do you check to see if anyone’s inside?” Harry asked.

“About once every ten years,” said Griphook, with a very nasty grin on his face.

< Still want to rob the place, Mi? > Harry asked.

< Fuck off, > she replied. < We’re fucking loaded, we never need to rob again… Well, let me see what’s inside this vault first, but then we never need to rob again. > Both her and Harry leant forward, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least, but all that was in the vault was a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat before turning to get back in the cart.

One wild cart-ride later they stood blinking out in the sunlight again. They were both itching to go and spend money for the first time in their lives.

“Listen,” Hagrid said. “Would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them carts bad.”

Hermione smiled innocently up at Hagrid, and Harry could hear her gears clicking through again.

“Oh gosh, Hagrid. Of course not! You certainly don’t look well at all. I’m so sorry you’re feeling poorly! How about you go and take your time at the Leaky Cauldron and we’ll meet you back there in a few hours? We often go shopping by ourselves, and we’re ever so keen to buy our textbooks and wands,” Hermione said sugar-sweetly. Hagrid gazed down at her, his black eyes crinkling, and he smiled.

“Thas so nice o’ yeh, Hermione,” he said. “Come find me when you’re done.”

Hermione’s sweet smile snapped back to her usual calculating grin as Hagrid walked away.

< Let’s go spend some fucking money, Me. >


	6. Let's Spend Some Fucking Money

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I'm having a lot of fun writing this. It's a nice break from my normal life.  
> Feel free to leave comments/kudos.  
> Mind speak denoted by < xx >

< Where do you wanna start, Mi? > Harry asked, looking down at the list of required items.

< We need something to put all this shit into, so let’s get a trunk. We can probably get a proper bag as well, instead of these, > she said, shrugging up her shoulders to indicate the tattered old backpack.

< I can’t believe we can just buy things. Hand over real money and buy things, > Harry said excitedly, as they walked into the store. It was warmly lit and smelt of parchment and leather. There were many different types of trunks and bags around the store. He watched as the storeowner made her way to them. < Shot not, > he quickly said. < It’s your turn to stand in front. > He felt his sister’s annoyance ripple through the bond.

“How may I help you two today?” the lady asked kindly.

“We’re looking for a trunk please, ma’am. What would you recommend?”

“Well that depends on what you need it for. Our trunks all have the same baseline function, it just depends on what extras you might like. We have trunks with extra compartments for books, for pets, for wardrobes, and so on,” the lady replied.

< Extra compartments? > Harry said. < How big can they get? We should get ones with the most add ons. Our entire lives are going to have to be packed into them… not that our entire lives currently add up to much stuff, but you know. >

“How big can they get, ma’am? We’d quite like one with all of those add-ons. They sound very useful. We have such an awful amount of stuff, and we want to make sure it will all fit in, you see,” Hermione said. < And shut up, Me. I’m aware I sound like a right twat; I do not need you thinking it so loudly. >

“I have the perfect thing for both of you.”

The trunk in question was a work of beauty, made of deep brown smooth leather with black trimmings. It had multiple compartments with large extension charms, including a room with enough bookshelves to be turned into a small library. There was also a wardrobe compartment, and a space to keep potions ingredients safe and fresh. Harry and Hermione were wide-eyed with wonder as they perused all the different compartments.

“What happens if you fall asleep in here? Do you get trapped?” Hermione asked. The lady looked at them oddly.

“No, you can’t get trapped in your own trunk. It’s keyed to you, but I don’t think people really sleep in their trunks.”

“Oh,” Hermione laughed nervously, “I’m just such a bookworm. I often get lost in a book and lose track of the time. It wouldn’t be the first time that my brother has found me asleep over a book.” The lady gave them both an amused look at that. “Anyway, we’ll take two of these, please. And we’d like to get them keyed to both of us, as well as the featherweight charm please, ma’am. Do you think we could also please get just a standard bag for school? One to carry our books and what not?”

< This is amazing, Mi. Way better than a tent. We never have to go back to the Dursleys. Like this trunk is basically a small house. >

< I know, > Hermione said gleefully, as she handed over a ludicrous amount of gold coins. < Magic is amazing. I can’t believe it can make all this extra space. Doesn’t seem like it fits with any laws of physics that I know. We should get our wands next. >

< No, we should go get robes. We need to figure out what normal kids wear and buy a whole new wardrobe. We stand out in these clothes. I mean, we stand out in these clothes in the normal world as it is, > Harry said, lifting up a baggy sleeve. < But we can actually look like we belong in this world if we buy the right clothes. >

-/-

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

“Hogwarts, my dears? Come through, we’ll get you measured.” She brought them through to the back of shop and with a wave of her wand, a measuring tape started taking readings off them. Harry felt a jab through the bond and sighed.

“Excuse me, ma’am. We were wondering if we could purchase some normal everyday robes as well as our school robes. Whatever you would recommend for us, I’m sure you have excellent taste. We both need new shoes as well, if you have any thoughts,” Harry said politely.

“Of course, my dears. More than happy to be of service. Would you like to pick the colours or let me decide? And I’d recommend these dragon hide boots. They’re extraordinarily comfortable and will grow with you for a few sizes.”

“You can pick the colours, ma’am. But do you have anything ready to go, so we can start wearing them now?”

Madam Malkin smiled knowingly at them at that and nodded kindly.

-/-

< These will certainly take some getting used to, > Hermione huffed, as she flounced along in her new robes. < Trousers are just so much easier to move around in. >

< Yeah, I agree, > said Harry, who felt very peculiar in his robes, < but at least we look like everyone else now. >

They were in front of the wand shop now. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. As they pushed through the door, a tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop. There was hardly any room and they could see the dust floating in the air on the beams of the light that crept in from outside. There were thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly up to the ceiling.

< Should we say hello or something? > Harry asked, looking around.

“Good morning,” said a soft voice, before Hermione could reply. Both of them flinched at the noise. An old man had appeared out of nowhere, his pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom.

< We could say go fuck yourself, > Hermione griped. < Who sneaks up on their customers? > The old man was peering forward at them.

“Ah, yes,” said the man. “Yes, I thought I’d be seeing you both soon. Harry and Hermione Potter. You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.” He still hadn’t blinked and kept slowly moving towards them. “Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.”

Ollivander was now only centimetres away from them, still peering at them with his odd, pale eyes.

“And that’s where…”, he extended out his hand towards Harry’s forehead. Hermione yanked them both backwards before he could touch them.

“I’m sorry to say I sold the wand that did it,” he said softly, with his hand still extended. “Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands … Well, if I’d known what that wand was going out into the world to do… But what’s done is done.” He sighed and a sad look crossed his eyes.

Harry was too weirded out to say anything, although Hermione was loudly cursing the man out through the bond. 

“Well, let’s see. Which are your wand arms?” he asked, pulling out a long tape measure.

“Umm,” Harry croaked out, in order to save Hermione from opening her mouth and possibly continuing her diatribe out loud. “Umm, I’m right-handed, but my sister is left-handed.”

Ollivander nodded, and the tape measure started taking bizarre measurements, including in between their nostrils, while Ollivander perused the thousands of boxes in the store.

He held out a wand for them to try, which turned out to be the start of a very long and destructive process. Hermione only seemed capable of briefly setting things on fire while Harry kept shattering random glass objects. Neither of them had any idea what Ollivander was looking for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher.

“Tricky customers, eh? Not to worry, I always find the perfect match.” He stopped at that and stared at their foreheads again. “I wonder… I wonder indeed.” At that, he turned and vanished into the back of the shop, still muttering to himself.

< There’s probably another wand shop, right? > Harry said, glancing quickly at the exit. Before they could even think about taking a step, the old man was back, proffering two boxes at them.

“Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, relatively supple. Fir and phoenix feather, eleven inches, unyielding.

They both picked up one of the wands and knew instantly. There was a sudden warmth in their hands, and as they waved their wands together, the wands emitted a bright light. They sent a loving nudge to each other at the sight.

“Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, how curious… how curious indeed …”

He took the wands back off them and wrapped them up safely in their boxes, still muttering ‘curious and curiouser’.

< Really, old man? Just fucking spit it out, > Hermione sniped.

“Sorry,” said Harry, “but what’s curious?” He internally flinched as Ollivander fixed them with his pale stare.

“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold. Every single wand. It so happens that a phoenix once gave three feathers – a very rare event indeed. Two of those feathers are in the wands before you. But the third … well the third. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for these wands when their brother gave you those scars. Curious indeed. The wand chooses the wizard. I can tell a lot by the wand. Fir wands belong to survivors, their owners are focussed, strong-minded, and intimidating. Holly wands are rare, they belong to protectors, to those with a tendency to anger and stubbornness, to those on a dangerous quest. We must expect great things from you both. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible yes, but great.”

-/-

< Fuck that guy, > Hermione raged, as they walked towards the bookshop. < Did he seriously just say to us that fucking Voldemort did great things? >

< You are intimidating, he got that right, > Harry said, trying to forget the man’s creepy pale eyes.

< Yes, and you are a great protector. That won’t help the old fool when I hex him the next time I see him. >

< Ok, well we probably need to learn some hexes then. Come on, Mi. Forget about him. Let’s go buy so many books, that even our wonder-trunks won’t be able to hold them. >


	7. Oh My Occamy

Hermione was in heaven. There were tonnes of books on hundreds of entirely new topics. She prided herself on being like Matilda in this aspect and loved to devour book after book after book.

< Maybe I’ll just move in here, > she said excitedly.

< Calm down, there’s a bloody library at Hogwarts, and I’ve heard they’ve even got beds and food there too, > Harry bitched back. < I’ve got all the required schoolbooks here. What have you found? >

< What haven’t I found? There’s so much stuff, Me. I don’t even know where to start or how to choose. > Her eyes were shining with happiness as she looked around the store. Harry smiled fondly at her.

< You don’t have to choose. Whatever you want, we can get it, Mi. >

< Well, I’ve picked out quite a few books that read around the main subjects at school, and then I’ve found some books on wizarding culture, so we know how everything works. These are some history books because obviously it’s different to the history we’ve read about out in the normal world. Tell me, would it be crazy to get some of the more advanced textbooks? Like obviously ‘The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)’ is for first year, but then it goes up the grades. I want us to be the best, Me. And then there are heaps of books here on runes which look so interesting. And arithmancy; apparently, we don’t do that until third year, someone was saying – but it’s similar to maths and you were always really good at maths. What do you think? >

< Well, we got the ginormous trunk with the library compartment for a reason. Fuck it, let’s get them all. Always better to be over-prepared than under-prepared. >

-/-

Eeylops Owl Emporium was loud and full of odd smells. They both grimaced at the constant screeching coming from the owl cages. Hermione gasped suddenly and dragged Harry towards the back of the store. There was a variety of different snakes in glass terrariums although they looked quite different from any snake they’d seen before. They had brightly and oddly coloured scales, some of them had ruffles around their necks, while some even appeared to have wings.

“ _Hello_ ,” Hermione whispered tentatively. Several snakes raised their heads at her voice.

“ _A Speaker!”_ several of them hissed excitedly.

“ _You’re beautiful_ ,” Harry crooned to the two that looked like they had wings. They had shiny turquoise scales and small purple feathers. They preened at the praise. < Look at these ones, Mi. Aren’t they gorgeous? >

“ _Hello little ones. Where are you from?”_ Hermione asked.

“ _We were stolen from our nest while we were still eggs, Speaker. We only know this cage_ ,” one of the snakes replied. Both Harry and Hermione felt their hearts jerk at the words.

< Ok, I don’t care that technically we’re not allowed to have a snake. We need to get these babies, > Harry said. His sister sent a hum of agreement through the bond.

“ _Would you like to come and live with us? My name is Harry, and this is my sister Hermione. What do we call you?”_

“ _We have no names, Speaker Harry. We never knew our mother. But we’d like to live with you very much_.”

“ _How about Typhon and Echidna? They were fearsome Greek gods who were known for being the parents of many different creatures and monsters_ ,” Hermione offered.

“ _That would be a fitting name, for we are indeed fearsome_ ,” the tiny little snakes preened.

-/-

Both Harry and Hermione felt their hearts were very full indeed as they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron, their new baby snakes sleeping in their pockets, and their trunks magically shrunk down and feather-light.

< Not to totally trash the mood, but we need to figure out what Hagrid knows about why we were left with the Dursleys, > Hermione said.

< And maybe scam a free meal out of him in the process? > Harry asked, looking around the still-dim pub for the enormous man. < It is lunch time. >

“Harry! Hermione!” came a loud shout from across the pub. Hagrid was waving at them. People turned to stare at them upon hearing their names.

< Goddamnit, > Harry spat. < Move, move. Before they all fucking mob us again. > He dragged his sister over to Hagrid and quickly sat down. There were several empty glasses at the table. 

“How did everythin’ go? Get everythin’ yehs need?” asked Hagrid. “Do yehs want lunch while yehs are here?”

“We’d love lunch, Hagrid,” Harry said, smiling up at the man. “Thanks so much, that’s so kind of you!” He sent a smug feeling to his sister. < Well, that’s half of the goal achieved. Lunch – tick. Now you get to find out potentially sensitive information. >

“Hey Hagrid. Harry was just wondering earlier – well, just about our family. Why did we end up at the Dursleys? Do we have any other family members?” Hermione asked, widening her eyes in a practiced innocent look, while sending a mental jab at Harry.

“’Fraid not,” Hagrid replied sadly. “The will left by yer parents said yehs had to go to the Dursleys.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, looking down. “But why did we only find out about magic today? I know our Aunt and Uncle wanted us to be normal, which is totally fine. We did have a lovely time growing up with them, for sure. But it would have been nice to know more about this part of our world.”

< Why the fuck are you praising the people currently atop your revenge list? > Harry said incredulously. He got another mental jab back.

“Oh well, Dumbledore wanted yehs to grow up away from all o’ tha’, ter keep yehs safe and happy. I know he’s kept tabs on yehs over the years – great man, Dumbledore,” Hagrid replied.

“Oh well, I suppose that makes sense,” Hermione said, smiling broadly up at Hagrid, before turning back to the plate of food that had been put in front of her. < Well, someone is fucking lying, and I don’t think Hagrid has the brainpower to do so, although appearances can be deceiving. And we need to pretend to have had a normal childhood so that people don’t start to make enquiries into us. This Dumbledore put us with the Dursleys for some reason – I can’t believe it’s really what our parents wanted. Petunia hates our Mum. If that’s really what our parents wanted – no, I can’t think that, Me. Anyway, I shudder to think who he might put us with if it was deemed we couldn’t go back to them. No, I don’t want anyone involved in our business. >

< Yeah, but if he really is keeping tabs on us, then he’ll know if we don’t go back, regardless of any enquiries. >

< Either he’s lying about keeping tabs on us, in which case he won’t know; or worse, he does keep tabs on us, in which case he’s a fucking soulless monster who left us in that pit. Either way, we don’t want him suspicious about the situation. Better to start lying now, > Hermione said.

< Ok, but if he is keeping tabs somehow, then that means we’ll have to go back to the Dursleys today until school starts. >

< Fuck, > Hermione seethed.

< I say we say ‘fuck it’ and hope he doesn’t check in. We only have a month until school starts and he’ll no doubt get feedback from Hagrid, so maybe he won’t somehow check in on us in that time. I don’t wanna go back, Mi, > Harry said. < ‘Sides, we can’t practice magic if we go back cause of that Trace thing we heard about. We could get a room here, hide out in the trunk, and do whatever we wanted. Despite how dingy this place looks, they’ve even got room service. What do you think? >

< Fuck it, Me. Let’s do your plan. >

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading.   
> The two little snakes are indeed Occamy. I think they're so pretty, with their colours and little wings. I know it's not entirely known if they're 'true' snakes and can speak Parseltongue, but ya know. My monkeys, my circus.   
> Hope you've enjoyed it so far. They're off to Hogwarts in the next chapter. 
> 
> Mind speak denoted by < xx >  
> Parseltongue denoted by italics. 
> 
> Feel free to leave kudos/comments! I'd love to know what you think.


	8. Fights and Hats and First Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> They're off to Hogwarts.  
> And according to FBAWTF, occamy are choranaptyxic, so they can grow and shrink to the available space.  
> Thanks so much to everyone reading.  
> Feel free to let me know what y'all think :)
> 
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >  
> Parselmouth is denoted by italics

They had arrived very early for the train, in an attempt to avoid the multitude of stares and whispers they had often encountered in both the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley. To children who had spent their entire lives attempting to avoid note, and the inevitable wrath that being noticed brought, being stared at by entire crowds of people was anathema, and they still weren’t quite sure how to cope with such an onslaught.

They had enjoyed their month spent in Diagon Alley though, and the regular meals at the Leaky Cauldron had been quickly devoured. They had both read through their required school texts and started to practice some of the early charms mentioned. They were both determined not to arrive at Hogwarts well behind everyone who had been lucky enough to have a good childhood.

The regular meals meant they weren’t looking as pinched and gaunt as usual and there was even some colour in their cheeks for a change. They had also found a store that sold glasses and dealt with eye problems, and Harry had been delighted to have his eyes fixed. He’d known how bad his vision was, by knowing the difference between what he and Hermione saw, but being able to see clearly with his own eyes was a marvel.

Having arrived early, they had claimed a compartment towards the back of the train to themselves and settled in with some of their textbooks.

< Do you think people in our year are going to stare at us, Me? > Hermione asked, quite annoyed at the thought.

< We don’t fucking need any of them. If they’re gonna stare, then let them. We’ll cope, we always do. > Despite his bluster, Hermione could feel his worry mesh with hers.

< This is it for us. Magic, Me! And we’re free, free of the Dursleys and that cupboard. We’re going to make this our world. This is what we’ve been dreaming about for all these years. We just didn’t know what it was, > Hermione said passionately, thinking of all their daydreams of a world where someone came and rescued them, and took them off on an adventure. A father who mysteriously wasn’t dead, a long distant relative, a fairy from the woods.

< We learnt from those daydreams, Mi. It’s only us and we have to save ourselves. > Harry sighed at the look on his sister’s face. < I know, Mi. It would be nice to make friends. >

< We will, Me. I promise. It’s not going to be like what it was before. We can be whoever we want. I just … I don’t want people trying to use us, > she trailed off angrily.

< I know. We’ve been nothing for so long. How do we go about being The-Twins-Who-Lived? We barely know what happened, we don’t even know why it fucking happening. What are people going to want from us? > Harry said.

< I’m pretty confident that being starved orphans who grew up in a cupboard hasn’t factored into anyone’s delusion of who and what we are, > Hermione laughed.

< We could just go feral on anyone who pisses us off, > Harry laughed back at her. He reached across to take her hand. < Remember what we have? >

< Just me and mine. > At that, they settled back into their seats, watching as other people started to arrive across the platform.

-/-

“Umm, h-hi,” a tall chubby boy stuttered at the compartment door after knocking, “would either of you mind if I sat in here with you?” He looked ready to bolt at the slightest shake of a head.

“Nah, come in. I’m Harry, and this is Hermione. It’s lovely to meet you,” Harry said, smiling up at the other boy. Hermione smiled and nodded at him.

< This one would pass out at the first sight of us being feral, > she shot through the bond.

“I’m Neville, Neville Longbottom,” he replied, taking a seat. They all looked at each other as silence settled through the compartment.

< Right, how do you actually make a friend? > Harry said, racking his brains for something to say.

< Fuck me dead, > Hermione said. < Probably not by having a telepathic conversation. > She gestured towards the cage the other boy was carrying. "So, Neville. What's that you've got there?" 

“Oh, this is Trevor, my toad. My Uncle Algie got him for me,” Neville said.

< Good to know we’re not the only ones whose relatives hate them, > Harry remarked. Hermione snorted, which she quickly turned into a cough.

“That’s really cool, Neville. Are you looking forward to Hogwarts?” she asked. At this, he looked morosely at the floor.

“Err, well, I am, but I’m just … well, I’m just not sure I’ll be any good at it, you know,” he stumbled through answering.

“That’s why we’re going though,” Hermione said, “so we can learn. You don’t have to be good at the start.”

< Says you, > Harry said. < You’d rather die than not be good from the get-go. >

< It’s called ‘trying to be encouraging’, dipshit. You’re supposed to be the nicer one in this relationship, > she snapped.

< I know, but it’s fun to watch you try, > Harry laughed.

“I know. It’s just that, well, my family thought I was a Squib for ages. Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. He came around for tea and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles and he accidentally let go. But I bounced all the way down the garden. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. They thought I might not have enough magic to come here to Hogwarts.” Neville kept staring resolutely at the ground.

< Fucking hell, > Hermione said. < You were only joking before, but like, his relatives might actually hate him. Uncle Algie sounds like a total Trunchbull. >

“That’s fucking shit, mate,” Harry said, “but we’re free and off to Hogwarts now. You’ll be good, ok. We can study together. I know absolutely nothing, so I’m sure you’ll be the one helping me. And Hermione here is the biggest swot you’ll ever meet, so …” he trailed off, looking at Hermione.

“Absolutely,” she continued, before being interrupted by the compartment door being opened again. A stocky redhead with dirt on his face walked in and sat down, grinning at everyone.

< No, absolutely, no need to knock. After you, dickhead, > Hermione fumed.

“Do you mind? Everywhere else is full. Anyway, I’m Ron Weasley,” he said, looking at Harry.

“Umm, hi. I’m Harry, and this is –“ He was cut off by Ron.

“Harry Potter! So, my brothers weren’t lying. People were saying on the platform that you were coming to Hogwarts. Have you really got the – you know…” He gestured towards Harry’s forehead. Both Harry and Hermione felt supremely uncomfortable.

< Is this what people are going to do all the time? Ask to see our scars? > Harry said. He could feel Hermione’s anger rippling through the bond.

“Uhh, yeah,” Harry said, before Hermione could curse the other boy. “But we don’t remember it.”

“Nothing?” said Ron eagerly, not picking up on the vibes in the compartment.

< Is he really asking us if we remember anything from the night our parents got murdered? > Hermione could feel her anger bubbling through her, could feel the ends of her hair starting to spark. “Who the fuck are you to ask us a question like that?” she snarled. Harry internally sighed.

“What’s it to you?” Ron shot back, glaring at Hermione.

“You’re harassing my brother,” she said. Ron glanced between the two of them, as Neville did his best impression of a pot-plant.

Before Harry could get a word in to try and de-escalate the rapidly approaching fight, Typhon took this moment to slither up out of his warm spot in his robes to see what the commotion was. Ron shrieked and pointed, and Typhon hissed at him, not liking the loud noises.

“ _It’s ok, baby_ ,” Harry hissed, trying to soothe him, “ _it’s nothing to worry about_.” He looked up again, to begin attempting to calm everyone down to see that Ron’s face had gone white at the sight and Hermione had a calculating grin that always spelled trouble.

“ _Echidna, baby. That boy is being mean to me and my brother,”_ she hissed, eyes narrowed at the redhead. Harry watched as Echidna slithered up to his sister’s shoulder and, fixing Ron with a stare, started to rapidly increase in size until there was an intimidatingly large snake in the compartment. They'd learnt in one of their textbooks that their snakes had the special power of being able to grow and shrink as they pleased. Harry wryly thought he should have realised that his sister would use it this way. 

“You’re both freaks,” Ron shouted, stumbling out of the compartment. Hermione slammed the door shut behind him, quietly hissing at Echidna who started to shrink again.

< Oh, well done, > Harry sniped. < We handled that really really well. >

“That’s a lot to take in,” Neville said quietly.

“We’re not animals in a fucking zoo to be gawked at,” Hermione snapped at Neville, who flinched.

< Come on, Mi. Neville’s harmless. Come here, come on. Push the anger out, > Harry said. Slowly, they both let all emotion simmer out of the bond. “It’s ok, Neville. We’re just … protective of each other. It’s not fun, everyone wanting something from us because our parents died.”

“I understand,” Neville muttered. “My parents aren’t … around either.” With the airs of someone trying to pull it together, he looked at the snake now wrapped around Harry’s wrist. “So, you can speak to snakes?” They both nodded.

“This is Typhon,” Harry said, holding up his snake. “Hermione has Echidna. They’re our familiars. We’ve always been able to speak to snakes, what’s the big deal?”

“Err, it’s a very rare skill,” Neville said, “and it’s usually associated with Dark Wizards.” His voice got higher pitched as he finished the sentence, and he swallowed uncomfortably. Harry and Hermione blankly stared at him. 

< We should start keeping a fucking tally, > Hermione muttered. < ‘Weird Shit That Makes Us Stick out’. >

“Fuck,” said Harry.

-/-

A few hours, and many treats off the trolley later, there was a knock at their compartment door. Hermione opened it to a white-haired boy flanked by human boulders.

< Maybe we could try not to fight this lot, > Harry said.

< What the fuck was I supposed to do with the last one? > Hermione snapped, still quietly furious about it. Harry laughed through the bond.

< Well, for starters, not tell Echidna to fucking grow in size. I’m just saying that we have literally all year to fight our way through the school. We don’t need to do it all on the train. > Hermione rolled her eyes at him, before turning back to face the newcomer who was eyeing them curiously.

“Yes?” she asked, ignoring Harry rolling his eyes at how impolite that was through the bond.

“I’ve come to see if what Weasel is shouting throughout the train is true,” he replied. Harry felt his stomach sink slightly at the words. He cleared his throat.

“Why don’t you come in? I’m Harry and this is my sister, Hermione. This is our friend, Neville.” Harry shot a smug tone to Hermione. < You may want to learn from my impeccable manners, dear sister. >

“Longbottom,” the other boy nodded at Neville, who nodded back. “I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. This is Crabbe and Goyle.”

“Pleasure,” Hermione smiled. “Now what is being said about us?”

“That you’re both Dark Wizards who can talk to snakes,” he said bluntly.

“Fuck,” Hermione snapped. Harry could feel her gearing up for a fight so reached out for her hand and pulled her behind him.

“What’s it to you?” Harry asked. Neville’s head was going back and forth between the two groups. Draco grinned at Harry.

“You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort like Weasel. If you can really speak to snakes, then you’ll be sorted into Slytherin House with me. I can help you there.” He held out his hand to shake Harry’s, who took it. He bowed over Hermione’s hand before nodding once more at Neville and exiting the compartment.

-/-

A ragged dirty wizard’s hat sat on the stool in front of them. < Maybe we have to set it on fire, > Hermione giggled. They were at the front of the Great Hall, lit by thousands and thousands of candles floating above the five long tables. The ceiling, which looked like it opened up to the stars above, was entrancing to look at. With a jolt, Harry realised that the hat had started to sing.

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. Harry and Hermione had one line going through their minds – In Slytherin you’ll make your real friends.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah.”

A girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment’s pause before the hat shouted Hufflepuff loudly, and there was loud cheering from one of the tables. And so it went, as McGonagall slowly called out everyone’s names. Neville was sorted into Gryffindor and Malfoy got his wish and was sorted into Slytherin immediately. Harry realised that his name would be called before Hermione’s, who gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

There weren’t many people left now. The list dwindled down through another pair of twins, Parvati and Padma Patil. With horror, they realised that those twins had been sorted into different houses.

< Fuck no, > Harry said. < We can’t be in different houses. > Hermione was similarly alarmed.

< Whatever house you end up in, I’ll just demand that the stupid hat puts me there too. I **will** set it on fire if I have to, > Hermione said. Then it was time, as Harry’s name was called.

There was abrupt silence at first, before hundreds of whispers broke out around the hall. People were craning to get a look at him as he walked towards the hat. The last thing he saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was Hermione’s worried face.

< It’ll be ok, Me. I’m always in here with you, > she said, before a small voice started talking in his head.

“Hmm, difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting. There’s cunning here too, and a very well-honed survival instinct. So where to put you? Gryffindor could suit you but Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness. I think that’s best. Better be SLYTHERIN!”

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall which, once again, fell completely silent, before loud cheering erupted from the Slytherin table. Walking over there, he heard his sister’s name be called, and the hall once again fell silent.

< It’s probably a good thing we’ve got a whole year here because it’s going to take me that long to fight all these staring motherfuckers. > She yanked the hat down on her head and sat down on the stool. Don’t even fucking think about separating me from my brother, she thought.

“I wouldn’t dare, little one. I won’t deny that Gryffindor would suit you, but Slytherin was also made for you. Any means to achieve your ends. You and your brother will do well in SLYTHERIN!” The hat shouted the last word again, and Hermione made her way over to Harry. She took a seat next to him and breathed a sigh of relief.


	9. Creepy Twin Speak

Ron Weasley was the last of the first years to be sorted, and both Harry and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when the hat shouted out Gryffindor. The hall fell silent as Albus Dumbledore got to his feet. Harry and Hermione sent each other a mutual feeling of loathing as the man beamed out at the students with his arms out wide.

“Welcome!” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

He sat back down as people started clapping and cheering.

< So, he’s a fucking nutjob? > Harry said.

< Or playing at one, > Hermione replied darkly.

Before they could speculate any further, the table was suddenly covered in food. Harry quickly shut his jaw which had dropped at the sight. Neither of them had seen so much food before in their lives.

< Wait, > Hermione interjected, just as Harry had gone to grab some roast chicken. < Just wait a few seconds just to see what everyone else does. >

< Mi, I know we have a telepathic connection, but what the hell do you mean? >

< Me, we eat like it’ll be our last meal. I’ve seen you shovel food into your mouth with only your hands. This lot are rich wankers. Ok, look – you can get some food now, but make sure you use the cutlery like Malfoy is doing, > she said, before delicately spooning some food onto her plate. Harry begrudgingly admitted she did have a point.

“So, the Potter twins have come to Slytherin,” started a dark-haired girl with an upturned nose. She was eyeing them off with a calculating look in her eyes. “I’m Pansy, Pansy Parkinson.”

“I did tell you they’d end up in Slytherin, didn’t I, Pansy?” interjected Malfoy. Harry and Hermione blinked as every Slytherin first year looked at them.

“We felt it was the best fit for us,” Hermione said, as haughtily as she could. “I’m Hermione, and this is my brother Harry.”

A brown-haired boy chuckled at that.

“You two don’t need any introductions. Everyone in the Wizarding World knows who you are. Everyone just expected you two to go to Gryffindor like your parents. I’m Theo Nott. It’s a pleasure to meet you. This is Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Millicent Bulstrode, and Blaise Zabini,” he said, gesturing at others around the table. “I believe you’ve met the others on the train.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Harry replied, trying not to feel overwhelmed already.

-/-

Having eaten possibly more than was smart, Harry was now feeling very warm and sleepy. As Hermione slowly finished off some treacle tart – they never wasted food - Harry looked up at the High Table. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Dumbledore. An odd-looking man in a turban was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past the turban straight into Harry’s eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on his forehead. Hermione snapped her head across to him, having felt the exact same pain in her own scar. They were looking at each other frantically but the pain had gone as quickly as it had come.

< It’s when that teacher up there looked at me, > Harry said in answer to his sister’s silent question.

< Our scar has **never** hurt before, > she said, eyeing off the sallow man. Before she could overtly glare at him, the last of the puddings disappeared and Dumbledore got to his feet again.

“Ahem – just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death. And now, bedtime! Off you trot!”

< Fuck, ok so – things to add to the list of things we need to figure out; whatever we can find out about our scars, who that teacher is and what’s the deal there, and I’m kinda intrigued by a corridor that promises certain death, > Hermione said.

< Of fucking course you are. We still need to figure out how to get our parents’ wills and where we’re gonna live, along with also learning magic and passing all our classes. Maybe the death corridor can wait, > Harry snarked, as he scrambled to his feet along with the other first years who were being directed by an older student.

They wound their way down through the castle, the air getting noticeably cooler as they went. They stopped before a bare expanse of wall.

“This is the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room,” said one of the older students, with a Prefect badge attached to her robes. “Password is verdant, and under no circumstances are you to ever bring students from other Houses here. Go and find your rooms and then return to the Common Room by 8pm as our Head of House will be speaking to the first years.”

Harry and Hermione shot a look at each other as they followed the other first years into separate dormitories. They’d never slept apart in their whole lives. Even during that one month at Diagon Alley, they’d slept together on the floor of their trunk. The dormitories had extravagant four-poster beds hung with deep-green velvet curtains. There was a desk next to each bed, and their trunks had already been brought up.

< Well, at least we can still talk to each other, > Harry said, trying not to sound too miserable.

< It’ll be fine, Me, > Hermione said, her tone giving away her lack of conviction. < I’m sure sleeping in a normal bed will be good for us. >

-/-

Their Head of House turned out to be the hook-nosed sallow man. He cut an impressive figure as he strode into the Common Room, his black robes flaring out behind him. He fixed them all with a stare.

“I am Professor Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House,” the man began. He had a deep voice and enunciated each word with a cutting edge. “You have been placed into this House because you apparently have the right qualities. Cunning, ambition, resourcefulness, intelligence. We have won the House Cup for the last seven years in a row because of this. I expect all of you to be up to standard. Slytherin House is the best, and I will not see our reputation damaged.” His eyes briefly rested on Harry as he spoke. “First rule of Slytherin is that Slytherins stick together. You must always show a united front to the rest of the school. The second rule is don’t get caught. If you do, you will face my displeasure. If you are having any problems, please see your Prefects.” He gestured to the older students standing next to him. “Do our House proud.” At that, he stalked out of the room, robes flaring behind him again.

< What a dramatic twat, > Harry exhaled.

< Well at least our scars didn’t hurt this time, > Hermione replied. < That doesn’t really make sense. >

She was still mulling it over as she got into bed that night. She tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. The bed seemed ludicrously soft.

< Someone’d probably notice if we slept on the floor, wouldn’t they? > Harry said, having the exact same problem.

< Unfortunately, > Hermione replied, staring up the roof of the four-poster. < But if we can learn to sleep in a fucking cupboard, we can learn to sleep in a bed. > She felt Harry slip further into her mind.

< What do we have? > he said softly.

< Just me and mine, > she said, closing her eyes.

-/-

They had thus far survived their first week, although the constant whispers and stares that followed them as they tried to make their way through the castle were irritating them both to no end.

Herbology had been fun, and they were both well-practiced at gardening thanks to Aunt Petunia. Hermione was still quietly gloating at her success at Transfiguration, being the first one to successfully transfigure her match into a needle. Defence had sadly been a joke – Quirrell, the professor with the turban, stuttered through every sentence and seemed to have no idea what he was talking about. Charms had been fun though.

It was now Friday, and they had their first potions lesson. Potions took place down in the dungeons. It was colder in the dungeons, and the room would have been creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape’s presence quickly silenced the class. He glared at the Gryffindors before flicking his wand, putting today’s lesson up on the board.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.” Silence rung through the classroom. Snape had the ability to hold a classroom under his spell with his words.

< Look at that, the greasy bat is a poet as well as a git, > Harry said, still unimpressed with the glares he’d gotten from the Potions master.

< He’s our Head of House and we **will** make him like us, even if it kills us. He’s supposed to favour Slytherins, for crying out loud, > Hermione replied.

“Potter!” said Snape suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

< Which one of us? > Harry said quickly.

< Let’s do creepy twin speak, > Hermione replied. They found speaking the same thing at the same time tended to unnerve everyone around them, and it had always made Aunt Petunia completely furious. It had been the source of many a punishment.

“Draught of Living Death, sir,” they replied at the same time. Surprise flashed in Snape’s eyes for a brief second before he nodded at them slowly.

“I told you they were freaks, didn’t I?” Ron whispered to Seamus. In the silence of Snape’s classroom, it carried through the room. Snape’s head snapped towards the Gryffindor boys.

“Weasley, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?” Ron’s ears had turned red as the attention turned on him. Hermione smiled smugly at him.

“I don’t know,” he replied.

“Can either you or Mr Finnegan tell me the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?” Snape asked scathingly. They shook their heads. The Slytherins all snickered at them. “Could anyone here please inform these two as to the answer?”

“You’d find a bezoar in the stomach of a goat, sir,” Harry and Hermione spoke together again. “Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant. It’s also known as aconite.”

“5 points to Slytherin,” Snape said. “Now, on the board, you’ll find instructions for a simple boil cure. Pair up and start brewing.”

< It’s been a while since we’ve had the opportunity to do creepy twin speak, > Harry laughed, as they gathered the required ingredients.

They quickly got to work cutting up the ingredients and setting up their cauldron. They settled comfortably into a rhythm and were quite pleased as their potion progressed as it should. Snape swept around the classroom loudly criticising the Gryffindors, although he seemed to avoid Harry and Hermione’s table.

Snape was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus’ cauldron into a twisted blob and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people’s shoes.

Harry grabbed his sister and hauled them up onto their stools before the toxic mixture reached them. Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his body.

“Idiot boy!” snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

“Take him up the hospital wing,” Snape spat at Seamus, who quickly dragged Neville out of the room. Harry watched them go.

< We should try and hang out with Neville again. He doesn’t seem to be having the greatest time, > Harry mused, as Hermione bottled their potion, both very proud that it was the correct colour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)  
> Feel free to leave any comments/kudos. I'd love to hear your thoughts.   
> Mind speak is indicated by < xx >


	10. Flying and Fighting and Fleeing

Hermione eyed off the broom next to her with a strong look of distrust. It was a clear breezy day out on the grounds for their first flying lesson. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, had short grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.

“Well, what are you all waiting for?” she barked. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up. Stick out your wand hand over the broom and say ‘Up’!”

“UP!” everyone shouted.

Hermione resisted sending a mental jab at her brother as his broom jumped straight into his hand. Hers had simply rolled over. I don’t think so, she thought, you’re a piece of wood. She repeated the command, pouring some anger into the word, and was pleased when the broom reluctantly rose into her hand.

< Matilda never had to fly, so I don’t see why I have to. I’m not a bird, > she griped, as Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips.

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,” said Madam Hooch. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle – three – two –“

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened, pushed off too hard before the whistle went off. Harry and Hermione watched as he rose straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle. Neville’s face went white as he saw the ground far below him and he slipped sideways off the broom.

WHAM – a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay face down on the grass in a heap. Madam Hooch rushed over to him as he screamed.

“Broken wrist,” they heard her mutter. “Come on, boy – it’s all right, up you get.”

< He’s really not got good luck, does he? > Hermione mused. < I’m definitely not getting on this broom now. >

“None of you are to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are, or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch’. Now come on, dear.” She took Neville, who was tear-streaked and still white in the face, off towards the castle.

Harry mentally pinched his brow as Malfoy burst into laughter.

“Did you see his face, the great lump?”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” snapped Parvati Patil.

“Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?” said Pansy. “Never thought you’d like fat little cry-babies, Parvati.”

< Do we get involved? > Harry said, watching everything unfold.

< We do not, > Hermione replied. < House unity remember. >

“Look!” said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass, “it’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him.” The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up. Harry took a deep breath before striding forward. He flashed a smile at Malfoy.

“Thanks for picking that up, Draco,” he said, leaning forward to take the glass orb. “I’ll make sure it gets back to Longbottom.” He breathed a sigh of relief as Malfoy made no move to stop him, confusion in his eyes.

“Give that back, you slimy snake!” Ron burst out, moving towards Harry. Hermione got there first.

“Come near my brother again, and I’ll make sure my snake eats you whole,” she snarled. His face went bright red, but he was stopped from retaliating by Madam Hooch emerging from the castle.

The rest of the lesson passed without incident, although Malfoy sent a few looks his way. Harry thoroughly enjoyed flying but his sister was more than content to simply watch through his eyes as she stayed firmly on the ground.

-/-

“What was that earlier, Potter?” Malfoy asked later that afternoon in the common room. Harry and Hermione were curled up around a book on potions and they looked up at the blonde boy at the same time.

“It’s beneath someone like you, Heir of the House of Malfoy, to bully someone like Longbottom,” Harry replied steadily. “At least pick on someone who fights back. Might I suggest Ron Weasley?”

-/-

As Harry stared into the six eyes of the monstrous dog in front of him, he thoroughly regretted suggesting to Malfoy that he go after Weasley instead of Neville. In his defence, however, a Wizard’s Duel at midnight hadn’t exactly been what he had in mind when he suggested anything.

That night, Harry and Hermione had gone to the hospital wing in order to see Neville. His arm had been fixed instantly, the only reason he was still there was the Calming Draught he’d needed to take. He’d been very grateful for the return of his Remembrall.

“I’m useless,” he moped, as the glass ball turned red again. “I’m no good at potions, I can’t fly. I can’t even remember whatever I’ve forgotten now.”

“Well, a pity party isn’t going to fix that,” Hermione said. Harry winced at her words.

“What she means,” he began, “is that we’re still learning. We’ve been meaning to catch up with you, Nev. We study in the library together every afternoon and on weekends. You should come and join us. You’re great at Herbology so we could definitely use your help there.”

A while later, they were near the Gryffindor Common Room entrance, having agreed to help Neville get back to his House. Unfortunately, Neville had forgotten the password.

< I hate to say it, but this is what you get for being nice, > Hermione said. < We are so past curfew that it’s not funny. >

< Yeah, we really need to learn that time-telling charm, > Harry said. < I don’t know what to do. Do we just leave him to sleep out here for the rest of the night? >

Before Hermione could agree to just that, Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnegan appeared out of the darkness.

“Mrs Norris?” Ron asked, squinting through the dark.

< He’s as stupid as he looks, > Hermione snarked.

“Thank goodness you found me! I couldn’t remember the new password to get into bed,” Neville said.

“Keep your voice down, Neville. The password’s ‘Pig Snout’ but it won’t help you now, the Fat Lady’s gone off some- You!” He had finally spotted Harry and Hermione. “What? Here to cheat on the duel? I knew Malfoy was a coward.”

“What **are** you talking about?” Harry said. “We were just helping Neville get back to his Common Room.”

“Malfoy challenged me to a Wizards Duel tonight, in the trophy room.”

“And you agreed? We don’t know any magic yet,” Harry said incredulously. < Gods, I take your point, Mi. Let’s not get involved after this. > He looked at the group of people around him. “Alright, let’s go to the trophy room, but keep quiet!”

They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Harry expected to run into Filch or Mrs Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed towards the trophy room.

It was empty.

< Oh shit! > Hermione gasped as it clicked, but it was too late as they heard Filch’s voice.

“Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner,” Filch crooned to his ghastly cat, Mrs Norris.

Horror-struck, Harry and Hermione both shrunk back into the shadows and crept towards the door away from his voice, unaware that everyone else had followed them. They snuck down a long gallery full of suits of armour, Filch’s voice still echoing down the corridor.

“What do we do?” Neville breathed. Harry flinched and cursed himself for not realising that everyone was still with them. Filch’s voice seemed to be getting louder and Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run, only to immediately trip over and topple right into a suit of armour.

< I am going to beat the shit out of you once we get back to our Common Room, > Hermione shrieked as they sprinted down the gallery and into the next corridor. < We are NEVER helping anyone again. > They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.

“I think we’ve lost him,” Ron panted, wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.

< Gods above, it’s like they’ve never had to run before, > Hermione said.

“Stop breathing so loudly,” Harry hissed, trying to listen out into the darkness. He closed his eyes, letting his senses spread out, wishing he hadn’t left Typhon in his warm bed. For a moment there was nothing but then he caught it. Footsteps, slowly getting louder.

“Run!” he said, taking off down another corridor quickly, where they slammed into a door. A quick rattle of the handle showed it was locked.

“This is it!” Ron moaned, as he pushed at the door, “We’re done for! This is the end!”

“Gods, another pity party! Move over!” Hermione snarled. She tapped the lock with her wand and whispered, “Alohomora!”

The lock clicked and the door swung open – they piled through, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.

There was only silence on the other side of the door, and Harry breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

“I think we’ll be OK,” he said, turning to Neville who had been tugging on his sleeve non-stop. “What now, Neville?” he whispered, turning around to face a new nightmare.

A ginormous three-headed dog. A monstrous massive black dog with three heads, three huge jaws filled with ugly fangs.

< I am going to kill Malfoy, > he said, quite calmly, all things considered. 

The dog was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at the five children, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren’t already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that. There was no mistaking what those thunderous growls coming out of the drooling mouths meant.

< It’s a Cerberus, > Hermione said, astonished. < They guard the gate to Hell in Greek Mythology. >

< Fitting, > Harry said, fumbling for the doorknob, < given that we’re about to fucking die and go there. > He pushed the door open and they all fell backwards. He quickly slammed the door shut and picked his sister up. Without looking at the others, he sprinted away with his sister’s hand in his. They didn’t stop until they reached their Common Room where they collapsed on the nearest lounge.

< It was standing on a trapdoor, > Hermione said, once they’d gotten their breath back and their hearts were no longer trying to pound out of their chests. < A Cerberus on top of a trapdoor in the forbidden third corridor. The corridor that promises a painful death. >

< Well, fairness to that. It would be a painful death, being mauled and eaten by a three-headed dog. >

< I wonder what it’s doing there, > she mused.

< Kindly cease and desist wondering, > he snarked back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone!  
> I hope everyone is enjoying my little story.  
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >  
> Halloween is up next.  
> Feel free to leave your thoughts below :)


	11. Hell to Halloween

Harry jerked bolt upright in bed a few days later to Hermione’s voice loud in his head.

< The package, Me! > she shouted, far too early in the morning.

< What, > he snapped, < the fuck are you talking about? >

< The package that Hagrid got from Gringotts – the one that was super-secret important Hogwarts business, > she replied. Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes and wondered what a peaceful life would be like.

< What about it? > he mumbled.

< I bet it’s what that dog is guarding, > she said excitedly. Harry slumped back in bed.

-/-

Hermione was still thinking about it later that day when they went to Charms. It was Halloween and there was a delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. She was quite excited for Charms today as Professor Flitwick had announced that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly.

To her devastation however, Professor Flitwick decided to split the class into pairs. She could not comprehend why the school insisted on often putting Gryffindor and Slytherin together. It never seemed to end well.

“Ah, and Miss Potter. You can pair with Mr Weasley over here. Mr Potter, you can pair with Mr Finnegan,” the diminutive wizard said.

< You have to be joking, > she fumed. It was hard to tell who was angrier.

“Now, don’t forget that nice wrist movement we’ve been practicing!” squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. “Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too!”

Harry wasn’t sure if it was as difficult as Seamus made it look. He kept swishing and flicking but the feather resolutely stayed on the desk. He ended up getting so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it, an unfortunately common occurrence around Seamus.

Ron wasn’t having any more luck. He kept shouting the incantation and waving his arms around.

“Stop!” Hermione snapped. “You’re going to take someone’s eye out if you keep going, and you’re saying it wrong anyway. It’s _Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa_ , make the ‘ _gar_ ’ nice and long.”

“You do it then, if you’re so clever,” Ron snarled.

Harry could feel her smugness before she even began the incantation. She rolled up the sleeves of her gown and with a flick of her wand, the feather rose off the desk and hovered above their heads. He sent a bolt of pride to her through the bond.

“Oh, well done!” cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. “Everyone see here, Miss Potter’s done it! Five points to Slytherin.”

-/-

Ron was waiting for them outside the classroom. Hermione had stayed back to ask some further questions and Harry had quietly waited for her so they could head down to the Halloween feast together.

“You two are a disgrace to your family’s name,” he snarled as they exited the classroom. “Your parents would be sick to see you two in Slytherin House with your freak pet snakes. It’s no wonder no-one can stand you, you must have noticed that you two don’t actually have any friends.” Harry was quite taken aback at the venom being spat at him by the other boy.

“Fuck off, you worthless excuse for a wizard,” Hermione spat back. “It’s not my fault your older brothers got all the talent and left you with nothing.” Ron’s ears went bright red at that.

“You should have died on Halloween with your parents!”

The words echoed through their minds and Harry felt the world go quiet as he was seized by rage. He watched Hermione fling Ron backwards with a flick of her hand, watched as the other boy went flying backwards and crashed into the stone wall behind him.

Hermione fled.

Harry chased after her, his world still quiet amidst his fury. < Mi! Mi, wait. I’m coming, Mi, > he shot through the bond, as they both hurtled down a corridor.

His sister’s face was eerily blank when he finally caught up with her. He knew his face was a mirror. Their bond was still raging with fury between them.

< Come here, Mi Mi, > he said, opening up his arms. She rushed into his arms. There were no tears in her eyes – he couldn’t remember the last time either of them had cried – but he could feel her grief and pain intertwine with his. < It’s not true, any word of it. He’s just jealous and pathetic because you’re the shining star of our year, you’re the best at everything. >

< Our parents died ten years, Me Me, and sometimes it feels like it would be better if we’d gone with them, > she said quietly.

< No, Mi Mi. I don’t know what happened all those years ago, but I will only ever be grateful that you are here with me. Things have just changed so quickly, our whole world has completely opened up, and we’re teetering on the edges where there previously were none, but that’s ok. Matilda got free – this is us getting free. We’ve got so much now, Mi Mi. I promise I won’t let it be taken away from you. > He gently rocked her in his arms, feeling the bond slowly quieten between them. < What do we have? >

< Just me and mine, > she replied softly.

< And some gorgeous baby snakes and we do have some friends and all this new magic and a bed and food. Let’s go back to the dorm, Mi. I’ve got food in my trunk. We can light a candle for our parents and play with Kid and Ty. Then when you’re ready, we can make a plan for revenge on Ron Weasley, in true Matilda style. >

-/-

Halloween had been less shit at the Dursleys was the first thing that crossed Harry’s mind as he spotted the creature at the end of the corridor.

He was waiting outside the girls’ bathroom for Hermione on their way back to the Common Room when a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.

A horrible sight followed the stench. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. It was oddly garbed and the smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

“Mi,” he yelled, possibly too loudly given the scenario, as he burst through the bathroom door and dragged her into the nearest stall.

“Jesus fuck above, what? Why are you talking out loud? And I know we share everything, but we **really** don’t need to pee together, Me,” she said, regaining most of her usual pep.

Harry put his hand across her mouth. < There’s a troll outside, so this is probably the worst time for us to start talking out loud. > Her eyes widened. < I don’t know if it saw me, so we just need to be really really quiet. >

< If you saw it then it definitely smelt you, > she said. < They’ve got a really good sense of smell. > They remained frozen in the stall, their breaths seeming unnaturally loud in the quiet.

< What do you think Matilda would do? > he asked, still clutching her.

< Have a better life than ours, > she replied. < How far away was it? We should try to sneak out, we don’t want to be trapped in here. There’s only one exit. >

< It was down the very end of the corridor, it mightn’t have necessarily come down this way, > Harry said, as he slowly opened the cubicle door. Before they could go any further, the door to the bathroom burst open and an overpowering smell swept through the room.

< Remember anything else about trolls besides their proven amazing sense of smell? > Harry asked desperately as the troll slowly advanced on them.

< Their skin is really resistant to magic. >

< Fucking fantastic. >

With a roar, the troll lifted its wooden club and smashed it against the toilet cubicles, sending chips of wood flying everywhere. It brought the club up again and smashed down on the sinks, sending water spraying.

Hermione pulled out her wand. < I am not dying in a fucking bathroom, > she said. < Not on the anniversary of our parents’ death. >

The events of the day quickly rushed through Harry’s mind at her words and his eyes widened. Pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the club.

_“Wingardium leviosa!”_

The club flew suddenly out of the troll’s hand and rose high above its head and hovered there. It looked at its empty hand gormlessly, pausing in its confusion.

Hermione let all the fury of the day set their bond alight, felt it quickly build up until it was crackling. As Harry released his spell and the club began to fall, she pointed her wand at the troll and let go.

_“Incendio!”_

The troll’s clothes burst into a furious flame as the club slammed with a sickening crack onto its owner’s head. The troll swayed on the spot as the flames continued to spread before collapsing with a bone-shaking thud that made the whole room tremble.

It continued to burn.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn’t realised what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone must have heard the crashes and the troll’s roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall came bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. He took one look at the troll, let out a whimper, and fainted. No-one spared him a glance.

< What a useless waste of a Professor, > Hermione said with disgust.

Snape bent over the troll, waving his wand to extinguish the flames. Professor McGonagall was looking at Harry and Hermione with an angry expression.

“What on earth were you thinking?” she said with cold fury. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?”

“We were on our way there, ma’am,” Hermione replied, in a voice that sounded like she was discussing the weather. “I just needed to quickly use the bathroom.”

“You were given strict instructions to follow your Prefects back to your dormitories,” snapped Professor McGonagall.

“Oh, we weren’t at the feast, sorry ma’am,” Harry interjected. She turned to glare at him.

“And why not?”

“Because we didn’t feel like celebrating the day our parents were murdered,” Hermione said flatly, a hard look on her face. “We were on our way back to the dormitory to mourn in private when all this happened.”

McGonagall made a choking noise and Snape snapped his head towards them, his eyes widening briefly, before his usual blank expression returned as he straightened up.

“Of course. I’m sorry again for your loss,” she said softly. “But you were lucky today. Not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. Twenty points to Slytherin. I will let Professor Snape return you to your House.”

-/-

There were loud exclamations as they entered the Common Room and all the first years rushed towards them. Harry and Hermione were covered in ash and dirt and wood chips, clutching their hands together tightly to keep themselves upright.

They sat down to tell the others what had occurred and let themselves slowly relax as their Housemates’ voices washed over them.

“I’m so relieved you’re both ok,” said Daphne, reaching across to squeeze their hands. “Slytherin wouldn’t be the same without you two.”

In that moment, for the first time in years, Hermione felt like she could actually cry, and she squeezed the blonde girl’s hand back and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading :)  
> A bit of a heavier chapter, this one.  
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >  
> Spells are also in italics (along with Parseltongue).  
> Let me know what you think in the comments.  
> Xxx


	12. Quidditch and Christmas

They ended up at Hagrid’s after the first Quidditch match of the season. Harry was still buzzing from the spectacle that had seen Slytherin defeat Gryffindor and Hermione quietly resigned herself to a future that involved Quidditch matches.

< I definitely want to try out next year, Mi, > he said excitedly. < Flying is just so much fun! Can we buy a broom for next year? >

< You can, > she said dryly. < I will be doing no such thing. >

“Make yerselves at home,” said Hagrid, opening the door to his small wooden house. Harry was immediately accosted by Hagrid’s other (thankfully smaller) dog Fang who started drooling on him. “I’ll get the kettle goin’.” He placed some rock-cakes on the table and three mugs bigger than Hermione’s head.

“Reckon I could try out for the Quidditch team next year, Hagrid?” Harry asked excitedly.

“O’ course yeh could! Yer dad was a fine Quidditch player back in his day, reckon it’s in yer blood,” Hagrid said. “Might keep yehs outta trouble too. Only yehs could fight a troll in firs’ year.” He grinned proudly down at them.

“Gods, and that three-headed dog,” Hermione said in a whimsical voice, eyeing Hagrid for a reaction. 

He dropped the teapot.

“How do yehs know about Fluffy?” he demanded.

“Fluffy?!” Harry exclaimed before he could stop himself.

< Of fucking course he named that dread-beast Fluffy, > Hermione said.

“Yeah – he’s mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –“ Hagrid caught himself at the last second. “Don’ ask me anymore. Thas top secret, that is. Yer mixin’ up in things that don’ concern yeh. Yehs forget that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, thas between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel. Now drink yer tea and tell me abou’ yer classes.”

< Jackpot, > Hermione grinned. < Let’s go to the library. >

-/-

Neville found them later that afternoon in the library, surrounded by stacks of various textbooks.

“Umm, h-hi,” he stuttered out as they turned their heads towards him as one. To his relief, Hermione smiled.

“Neville. It’s so nice of you to join us,” she said, moving some books out of the way so he could sit down. He eyed the books scattered around her.

“Why are you reading about magical law?” he asked curiously. He watched as Hermione flicked her eyes over to her brother. He didn’t know how they always seemed to know exactly what the other was thinking, even more so than the Weasley Twins. At least they largely avoided the Weasley Twins’ habit of constantly finishing each other’s sentences.

“We’re trying to figure out where our parents’ wills are,” Harry replied slowly.

“Gringotts,” Neville replied. “There is an office at the Ministry that deals with it all, but Gringotts also keeps wills because of all the stuff kept in the family vaults.”

“Neville!” Hermione exclaimed. “You’ve just saved us so much reading.” She shot the Gryffindor her best smile. < Damnit, > she said to Harry. < We’ve already signed up to stay here over the Christmas holidays. >

< We’re better off here. Staying at the Leaky over Christmas is too conspicuous. We can visit Gringotts during the Easter holidays. > Harry replied. < Should we ask him if he knows anything about Nicolas Flamel? >

< Better to keep that one between us, > she said. “Shall we do our Potions and Herbology homework? We can help each other.”

-/-

Harry and Hermione were thrilled to have the entire Slytherin Common Room to themselves – everyone else had gone for the holidays. They dragged a mattress out from the dormitory and spent the nights curled up asleep in front of the fire. It was the best they’d slept all year, although they had slowly gotten used to their soft single beds.

Hermione was jerked into consciousness far too early on Christmas morning by Harry excitedly shouting her name through the bond.

< Mi! Mi, we’ve got presents! Wake up! > Harry shouted, looking at the small pile of presents next to the mattress. < Real presents! > They both scrambled to the edge of the mattress and looked down at the pile with wide eyes.

Hermione frowned and turned to her brother. < I didn’t get you anything, > she said. He looked back at her with a confused expression. 

< I didn’t get you anything either. Same for the past eleven years actually. >

< Then who are these from? > she asked.

< I think, > Harry said, < \- and correct me if I’m wrong – but I think we have to open them in order to find out. >

Hermione threw her pillow at him. He dodged it and picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and as he turned it over, saw that ‘To Harry and Hermione, from Hagrid’ was scrawled across it. Together they ripped open the paper to find a roughly-cut wooden flute that sounded a bit like an owl when played. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself.

The next present was for Hermione from all the first year Slytherin girls. Inside was a beautiful dark green cloak and a small book on hair charms. Harry laughed at the look on her face.

< Come on, Mi. The cloak is beautiful, and your hair is a disgrace. > He ducked the second pillow and grabbed the next present which was addressed to him.

< You should see your hair! > she screeched, secretly happy with her present. Her hair really was difficult to manage.

Harry’s present was similar, with a dark green cloak and a book on Quidditch tactics, from the first year Slytherin boys.

< Samesies! > he said, showing her his cloak. < Thank the gods that Pansy organised our year. I know we all sent someone something as a group, so I guess it makes sense that we would get something too. I guess I still wasn’t expecting anything regardless. This is so nice; I see why people like Christmas. >

< Neville sent us a new potions book, > Hermione said, quickly flipping through the book. < Fuck, we didn’t get him anything. >

< We should get him a new wand. The wand he has doesn’t work for him, and if creepy Ollivander is right, then it’s because the wand hasn’t chosen him, > Harry said, leaning over to grab the last present, turning it over to look for the card. It felt very light. < This one isn’t addressed. > Hermione took it and gave it a shake before tentatively unwrapping it.

Something fluid and silvery-grey dropped to the floor. Harry picked up the shining cloth; it was strange to the touch, like water woven into material. He gave it another shake and a note fluttered out of the folds. Hermione grabbed it and opened it up. Written in narrow, loopy writing neither had seen before were the following words:

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well._

_A very Merry Christmas to you._

< Clear as mud, > Hermione remarked. < What is it? > she asked, staring at the fabric in Harry’s hands. < It’s almost like a cloak. >

Harry frowned down at it before throwing it around himself on a whim.

Hermione shrieked.

Jerking back, he tried to get out of the fabric, only succeeding in tangling himself up before crashing to the ground.

< What? What is it? > he gasped, looking around him nervously.

< You went invisible, > she said, her eyes wide like saucers. A wild expression slowly stole across her face and she smiled her dangerous grin. < We have an Invisibility Cloak! Oh, Me! You said when I was ready that we could get revenge on Ron Weasley. Do I have a plan for us, or what! >

Harry grinned back at her.

-/-

Christmas at Hogwarts was incredible. Neither of them had seen anything like it before. A hundred fat roast turkeys, mountains of roast potatoes, platters of fat chipolatas, tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce – and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table.

The regular House tables were gone, there was just the one table and all the students and teachers were sat around it. Harry and Hermione stuffed themselves silly, pulling many a cracker between them, enjoying the blast that made a cloud of blue smoke every time they were broken. Hermione was quite pleased with their new chess set and her ever-favourite Sugar Quills.

After Christmas lunch, they snuck back to the dormitory and went down into their trunk. Hermione pulled out some parchment and wrote ‘The Plan For Revenge on Ron Weasley’ at the top. Harry pulled a book on jinxes and hexes from the shelf and started flicking through it.

< What are you thinking, Mi? > he asked, looking at simple boil hexes.

< Nothing subtle for the Gryffindor. I just want to ruin his fucking Christmas day. I want to sneak into the Gryffindor dormitory, steal his stuff, and curse him bald. >

< Don’t know that you needed to get pen and parchment out for that, > Harry said dryly. She scrunched up the paper and chucked it at him. < Alright, let’s find a balding curse. We can hide around their Common Room entrance after dinner to get the password and go back later tonight. >

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading :) Hope you enjoy this little chapter. 
> 
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >
> 
> Let me know what you think xxx


	13. Srorrim dna Sknarp

< It’s a bit embarrassing how easy this was, > Harry said, surveying the Gryffindor common room. They’d ended up just following the Weasleys’ into their Common Room after dinner in order to avoid having to give the Fat Lady a password and risk them being identified.

< Well, they’re not the House of the Cunning, are they? > Hermione replied, looking around too. < They’ve really gone ham with house colours, haven’t they? I feel like I’m in a womb. >

< No, thank **you** for that lovely imagery, > Harry said, screwing up his face. < Come on, let’s go hide up in the dorm. Don’t wanna risk someone literally stumbling into us. >

-/-

< I can’t believe he doesn’t have a lock on his trunk, > Harry said, rifling through the trunk. < Also, there is no organisational system here whatsoever. >

< Again, not the House of the Cunning, > Hermione said. < I’ve got all his presents here. They’ll be going straight in the nearest bin which is where he belongs. Grab all his textbooks, assuming he has any – his classwork would suggest he doesn’t. We’re going to hide them in the library. >

< You know you’re a genius, Mi, > Harry said, grabbing all the textbooks.

< Mmm, I’m aware, > she said grinning as she pointed her wand at the sleeping boy’s head and whispering the spell. Harry had to smother himself to avoid laughing out loud as Weasley went bald. He quickly put the Invisibility Cloak back over the two of them.

-/-

< This probably isn’t what that mystery person had in mind when they said ‘use it well’, > Harry said, still chuckling about the events of the night.

< Oh, I don’t know, > Hermione laughed, as she placed Weasley’s books on random bookshelves, < It was certainly a well-executed plan. Now, let’s go check out the Restricted Section. >

< Gods, haven’t we done enough illegal shit for one Christmas Day? > Harry said, already following Hermione into the Restricted Section, stepping over the rope. It was pitch black and very eerie.

< They literally have a rope separating the Restricted Section from the rest of the library. That’s basically an invitation, > Hermione sniped, looking at the ancient books in front of her, squinting in the filtered moonlight. The peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages neither of them knew. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. There was a faint whispering on the air, almost like the books were talking to them. < We can see if we can find Flamel … ooh, this looks like it might be in Parseltongue. >

Harry wandered further along the row, looking at the ancient tomes. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty. < Gods, this is heavy, > he said. < But it’s on great wizards, so maybe he’ll be in here. > He let the book fall open at random.

A piercing, blood-curdling shriek split the silence – there was a face coming out of the book and it was screaming! Harry jerked back as Hermione whirled around at the noise. He slammed it shut but the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, ear-splitting note.

< Fuck, fuck, fuck! > Hermione screeched. < Quick, get under the Cloak. Someone definitely will have heard that. > They scurried under the Cloak, slamming the book back into the shelf and quickly exited the Restricted Section, hearts still pounding. They hurried down the corridor away from the library.

< What the fuck kinda book? > Harry hissed.

< Maybe you have to be a great wizard to open it, > Hermione said.

< **Really?** > Harry snapped back. < Is now really the time? > They paused just before Hermione could confirm that yes, it was the time. There were footsteps coming down the corridor. They shrunk against the wall as Filch and Snape rounded the corner.

“You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody’s been in the library – in the Restricted Section,” Filch wheezed. Snape had a terrifying look on his face.

“The Restricted Section? Well, they can’t be far, we’ll catch them.”

Hermione scanned the corridor before noticing a door ajar just to their left. Mentally jabbing Harry, they slowly inched up the corridor, holding their breath, before squeezing into the room, just as Filch and Snape passed them.

Harry checked behind him just as they went to exit the room, suddenly noticing the enormous mirror in the centre of the room.

< Look, Mi, > he said, dragging them back into the room. It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet, and an inscription carved around the top. It was oddly entrancing, and Harry went to move closer.

< No, Me Me, > Hermione said, pulling him back. < Snape could check the dormitories. We can’t get caught out of bed, come on. > She dragged him out of the room and kept dragging him all the way back to the Common Room.

Harry managed to shake off his odd mood by the time they made it back and they fell asleep in front of the fire curled around each other.

-/-

Ron was absent from breakfast the next day and it was only their immense self-control that stopped them from laughing out loud at the memories of the night before.

They were accosted by the Weasley Twins as they left the Great Hall, and the two sets of twins silently sized each other up.

“We’re very impressed,” started Twin One. “However did – “

“A couple of ickle snakey firsties manage –“

“To sneak into our Common Room and –“

“Curse our brother bald?” finished Twin Two.

< I think that’s more annoying than Creepy Twin Speak, > Harry mused, glancing between the two. < Ready? >

“We’re quite sure that we have no idea what you’re talking about,” they replied together, suppressing a grin at the brief look of surprise that passed through the Weasleys’ faces. “We spent the night in our dorm enjoying our Christmas presents. So whatever are you talking about?”

The Weasley Twins cracked a grin and stared down at the two.

“Like I said, we’re very-“

“Impressed. It’s good to see another set of twins follow-“

“In the noble pursuit of pranking, and that is an epic-“

“First prank, so you two better be on guard for what comes -”

“Next, particularly as we’ve been blamed for this particular prank.”

“Gred and Forge, at your service,” they said at the same time, throwing a salute before wandering away before either Harry or Hermione could reply. Harry gulped at their words, but he could feel Hermione starting to grin.

< I mean, it was revenge, but pranking does sound fun, > she said. < I mean, that was basically an invitation to prank them. >

< Mmm, I don’t think it was, > Harry said exasperatedly, already hearing his sister’s brain whir through different ideas.

-/-

Against Hermione’s better judgement, they were back in the room with the mirror, staring up at the inscription: _Erised stra ehru oy tube cafru oyt on wohsi_. She turned her head as she puzzled over the words before it clicked.

< It’s backwards, > she said. < Remember when we spent a week talking in backwards for fun? >

< I show not your face but your heart’s desire, > Harry said. Taking off the Cloak, he grabbed his sister’s hand and they stepped in front of the mirror.

They jerked back at the sight, the bond lighting up between them as their emotions flared.

Their faces stared back at them, smiling. They were slightly taller, healthier looking, looking immaculate in their school robes. Behind them stood their parents. Their mother, hand on both of them, as she smiled out at them. She had dark red hair and eyes the same shape and bright green colour as her children. Their father was a tall, thin, messy black-haired man, with glasses. The similarity between him and Harry was undeniable. They both looked proud as they kept smiling at their children.

Harry crept closer to the mirror, a powerful ache growing in the bond, half joy and half terrible sadness, as he drank in the sight. Neither had ever seen their parents before. Hermione felt choked at the sight.

< Come away, Me Me, > she said, feeling close to crying. < It’s not them, they’re not here. They died and they won’t ever come back. >

< This is what we could have had, > he replied, not taking his eyes off the mirror. < This is what our hearts’ desire is, Mi Mi. >

< It’s an empty desire, Me Me. We can’t ever have it, no matter how much we may wish for it. Please, Me Me. > Hermione felt desperate, the bond loudly thrumming as hope and grief warred between them. She raised her voice. < What do we have, Me Me? Tell me, what do we have? >

At that, Harry stepped away from the mirror and looked at his sister sadly.

< Just Me and Mi. What do we have? >

< Just me and mine, > she finished. She took Harry’s hand again and squeezed it.

< You’ll always be enough, Mi, > he said, squeezing back. < I’m sorry for scaring you. >

< I’ll say what you said on Halloween. I wish we had our parents, but I will only ever be grateful that you are here with me. Like you said, we’re teetering on the edges, but we’re getting free. We’ve got so much now, Me Me. That mirror can’t give us what we want, > Hermione said. < Let’s get back to what we have. >

She turned to grab the Cloak and shrieked. Standing at the door was Albus Dumbledore. Harry whirled around at the noise, wand coming up. The Headmaster smiled genially down at them.

< I’d love you to, but probably don’t curse the Headmaster, > Hermione said, staring down the old man. Harry stood at her side, lowering his wand.

“So, I see that you two, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised,” Dumbledore said. “I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?”

“It shows your heart’s desire,” Harry replied slowly.

“And what does it show you?” asked Dumbledore.

Hermione seethed at his words. < What a fucking rude question!> Harry slowly calmed the bond down before answering.

“We see our family, sir. What do you see?” He turned his head and gave Hermione’s patented dumb and innocent expression.

“I see myself holding a pair of thick, woollen socks,” Dumbledore smiled.

Harry stared, ignoring Hermione’s incredibly rude comments.

“The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow and I must ask you not to go looking for it again. The mirror gives us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. But, if you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don’t you two put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?”

Harry dragged Hermione out of the room and back the common room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has commented or left kudos - it means the world.  
> Hope everyone enjoys the story so far. 
> 
> Mindspeak denoted by < xx >
> 
> And yes, the chapter title is Pranks and Mirrors spelt backwards.   
> The creativity of it all 😂


	14. Secrets are Slithering in the Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> Thanks so much for reading :)  
> Obviously, JKR owns all this stuff and I'm just borrowing her words for fun.  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter.  
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >  
> Hope everyone is remaining well in these fucked times.  
> Lots of love. Leave a comment and let me know what you think :)

They ended up at Hagrid’s again, after the quidditch match, Neville joining them this time. Gryffindor had soundly beaten Hufflepuff and Ron Weasley had beaten Malfoy’s face in before Crabbe and Goyle knocked him out cold.

“I feel like maybe I should have done something,” Neville was saying. “Malfoy and Ron were going back and forth like they always do – it’s that feud between their families – but Houses are supposed to stick together, and I didn’t do anything.”

“Neville,” Hermione said flatly, “not wanting to have your face beaten in is a perfectly normal response. You would have been crushed by Crabbe and Goyle. Besides, you didn’t see Harry or I getting involved, did you? And we’re even friends with Malfoy.”

< Right, > Harry said wryly. < Cause you wouldn’t beat in Ron Weasley’s face if you could? >

< I don’t need to, > she snapped. < My magic is far better than his. >

“Yers don’ need to be getting’ inter fights,” Hagrid said, pouring the tea. “Yers should be focussin’ on normal stuff like studyin’ and makin’ friends.”

Neville looked down sadly at that. “I don’t even really have many friends in my own House.”

“Well your House is full of morons then,” Hermione said. Harry sighed.

“What she means is that she’s sure that’s not true, but even if it is, well we’re your friends Neville. We’re going to try and get some other people to come study with us in the afternoons as well, so that way we can all have more friends,” Harry said, smiling at Neville.

“But also, your House is full of morons,” Hermione chipped in. Harry sighed again but Neville just laughed.

“You guys are the best,” he said, pulling out some Sugar Quills from his bag. “I know these are your favourite, Hermione.” Hermione shot him a big smile as they started drinking their tea and studiously avoiding the literal rock cakes, while chatting quietly about different lessons.

All three of them had full hearts as they wandered back up to Hogwarts in the red light of sunset. The sweet evening air rippled through the grasses as Hermione turned to survey the grounds in the dying light.

A hooded figure was walking towards the Forbidden Forest. It was Snape.

“Oh no! I left my book at Hagrid’s. We’ll see you later Neville,” Hermione announced, immediately dragging Harry back the way they’d came while Neville shot them a confused look.

< Get the Cloak out, > Hermione said. < Snape is going into the Forbidden Forest. >

< Oh no. No, no, no. It’s forbidden for good reasons, > Harry said. Hermione grabbed the cloak from him.

< Relax, we’ll be invisible. I just want to see what he’s doing. > She threw it around the two of them and they crept after Snape into a clearing in the forest. It was getting darker, the wind starting to whip through the trees louder. Snape stood silently waiting in the clearing.

Harry’s eyes widened as Quirrell crept into the clearing. < What the fuck is going on? >

“D-don’t know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus…” Quirrell stuttered out, drawing his cloak around him against the cold.

“Oh, I thought we’d keep this private,” said Snape, his voice icy. “Students aren’t supposed to know about the Philosopher’s Stone, after all.”

Harry nearly stumbled from the electric shock Hermione sent him through the bond at Snape’s words. < It’s the fucking Philosopher’s Stone! > she almost screeched. < That’s what Fluffy is guarding! >

< Shut up, I can barely hear Quirrell stuttering when we’re in a normal classroom, > Harry said, leaning forward to catch the conversation, not daring to get any closer, cautious that any misstep would see them discovered.

“Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid’s yet?” asked Snape.

“B-b-but Severus, I-“

“You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrell,” said Snape, taking a menacing step forward.

“I-I don’t know what y-you-“

“You know perfectly well what I mean. You will tell me about your little bit of hocus pocus. I’m waiting.”

“B-but I d-d-don’t-“

“Very well,” Snape interjected. “We’ll have another little chat soon, when you’ve had time to think things over and decide where your loyalties lie.”

At that, he spun on his heel and stalked out of the clearing. Quirrell remained there for several more minutes, standing quite still as though he was petrified, before slowly making his way out of the forest. Harry and Hermione remained frozen under the Cloak as it got darker around them.

< I don’t understand, > Hermione said. < What is Snape playing at? Does he want to steal the Philosopher’s Stone? >

< What is a Philosopher’s Stone? > Harry asked.

< I thought it was a myth, but it must be what Nicholas Flamel made. The Philosopher’s Stone is like the Holy Grail of Alchemy. It turns things to gold, and it produces the Elixir of Life. It makes you immortal if you drink it. >

< So, Snape is trying to steal a stone that makes you immortal? > Harry said, turning things over in his head. < Why is he talking to Quirrell then? >

< He must think that Quirrell knows how to get past Fluffy, which kudos to him if he does, because I wasn’t aware that Quirrell actually knew anything at all except how to be useless, > Hermione said, her dislike for the stuttering professor never-ending.

< Hocus pocus! > Harry exclaimed. < He wanted Quirrell to tell him about his hocus pocus. There must be multiple different protections around the Stone, including Quirrell, and Snape needs to know what they all are. >

< We’re missing something. A stiff breeze could get information out of Quirrell, let alone Snape at his most terrifying. And it still doesn’t explain why Snape is even trying to steal it, > Hermione said.

< Get some gold to buy himself a robe not in black? > Harry joked. < Live forever in the dungeon, an eternity of torturing students through potions. >

< Ha ha ha, > Hermione said. < Come on, it’s freezing and pitch black. Let’s go into the trunk and see what we can brainstorm out. >

Filch was waiting for them on the grounds, a twisted grin on his face. They’d left the Cloak in their bag on their way out of the Forest.

< Fuck, > Harry said.

“Well, well, well,” Filch crowed, “we **are** in trouble. Wandering into the Forbidden Forest after dark? This means detention.”

-/-

They’d kept a closer eye on the Potions Master over the week, but neither Harry nor Hermione were sure what to do about the whole situation. They were both heavily revising for the exams that were coming up after Easter break. As Hermione had bluntly said, no Philosopher’s Stone was stopping her from being top of the year.

An owl delivered a note to them at breakfast on Friday morning.

_Your detention will take place at eleven o’clock tonight. Meet Mr Filch in the entrance hall._

< Eleven o’clock at night!? What the fuck kind of school is this? > Harry exclaimed. < We’re catching the train tomorrow for Easter break. > Hermione looked similarly aghast at the note.

-/-

They were both still fuming about it as they left the Common Room that night.

< We’re breaking curfew to go to a detention. How does that make sense? > Harry griped. Filch was waiting for them, that sick grin on his face again.

“Follow me,” he said, lighting a lamp and leading them outside. “I bet you’ll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won’t you, eh? Oh yes, hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me … It’s just a pity they let the old punishments die out … hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I’ve got the chains still in my office, keep ‘em well-oiled in case they’re ever needed … Right, off we go, and don’t think about running off, it’ll be worse for you if you do.”

< He’s going straight to the top of the List. Hanging kids from their fucking wrists? What the hell kind of school is this? > Hermione said, echoing her brother’s words from earlier.

They were getting further away from the castle, the moon shining brightly down on them, making the shadows seem even scarier. Hagrid’s hut loomed up out of the gloom and they saw the big man standing there waiting for them.

“Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started,” boomed Hagrid.

“I suppose you think you two will be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again – it’s into the forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece,” he leered.

< So, we got a detention for going into the forest, and the punishment is going into the forest? > Harry said.

Hagrid smiled as he strode towards them, carrying a large crossbow and a quiver of arrows, Fang at his side.

“All right, you two? Bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. We need to get started.”

“I’ll be back at dawn,” said Filch, “for what’s left of them,” he added nastily, before starting back towards the castle.

“Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.”

He led them into the beginnings of the forest, the moonlight dappling through the leaves, and pointed at something shining on the ground.

“Look there,” he said. “See that silvery stuff? Thas unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in here bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time this month. I found one dead before. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing, ‘cause we might have ter put it out of its misery.”

Harry stared incredulously at the large man.

“Hagrid,” Hermione said. “Unicorns are nearly impossible to kill. What if whatever it is finds us first?”

“There’s nothin’ that lives in the forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,” Hagrid said airily, waving his dustbin hands around. “You two will go with Fang and follow the blood one way and I’ll go the other way. And if yehs get inter trouble, jus’ send up sparks with yer wand and I’ll come get yehs. I know it’s scary, there’s summat in here that shouldn’ be, but yers will be fine with me an’ Fang.”

< Maybe I do want to go to a Muggle school, > Harry said. < Potential loss of limb and murder isn’t on their detention list. >

< This is insanity, > Hermione was raging. < How is this legal? Who organised this? >

They were following Hagrid deeper into the forest, and the moonlight was getting slimmer and slimmer. They came to a clearing – Hermione noted with great irony that it was the same clearing that had got them into this trouble – just as something moved in the darkness. There was a slithering noise over dead leaves whispering through the clearing. Hagrid pointed his crossbow around the clearing.

“Who’s there?” Hagrid shouted. “Show yerself – I’m armed!”

< Wonder if it’s worse than a troll and a three-headed dog? > Harry said.

To their relief, a centaur stepped into the clearing. He had red hair and a beard and a gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail.

“Oh, it’s you, Ronan,” said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?”

“Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep sorrowful voice. “And hello to you, younglings. Mars is bright tonight.” Harry tried not to gape at the centaur.

“Listen, I’m glad we’ve run inter yeh, Ronan, ‘cause there’s a unicorn bin hurt – you seen anythin’?”

“Mars is bright tonight,” repeated the centaur, staring up at the sky. “Always the innocent are the first victims. So it has been for ages past, so it is now.”

A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and angry looking.

“Hullo Bane. Look, I’ve jus’ bin askin’ Ronan, you seen anythin’ odd in here lately? Only there’s a unicorn bin injured – would yeh know anythin’ about it?”

“Mars is bright tonight,” Bane said simply, looking skyward as well.

< Is everyone in this world completely useless? > Hermione said, staring at the two centaurs.

“We’ve heard,” said Hagrid grumpily, stomping out of the clearing and away from the centaurs who remained staring at the sky.

The silver blood continued in splashes across the ground until the path split into two.

“You two take Fang and go that way,” Hagrid said. “Remember, send up sparks if yehs need.” He strode off into the forest leaving the darkness to swallow up Harry and Hermione.

With great reluctance, they followed the silver trail deeper into the forest. They’d been walking for over an hour and the moon had vanished from sight, the trees pressing thicker and thicker in on them. The blood seemed to be getting thicker as they continued. Eventually, the thicket of trees thinned into another clearing. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground at the roots of an ancient oak.

Hermione sent a mournful note through the bond at the sight. It was the unicorn and it was dead. Neither had seen anything so beautiful or sad. Its long slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen, and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves.

< We need to send up sparks, > Harry said, getting out his wand. Before he could start, there was the slithering sound that whispered into the clearing. Hermione dragged him behind a tree as a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast.

They clutched each other in horror as the cloaked figure reached the unicorn and lowered its head over the wound in the animal’s side and began to drink its blood.

“AAWOOOOOOOOO,” came a loud howl from Fang who bolted from the scene. The twins tried to flee but were transfixed as the hooded figure raised its head and looked right at them, unicorn blood dripping from its mouth.

A sudden pain lanced through their scars, pain like neither had felt before. It felt like being burned, like fire was spreading from their scar, poisonous flames scorching through their veins, and Harry felt both of them drop to the ground, Hermione screaming from the pain.

The hooded figure slithered towards them and the pain intensified, building into a crescendo. Neither could see from the pain, and the bond was loudly cracking and flaring from the intensity.

Suddenly, he heard hooves galloping, and both flinched as something jumped clean over them and charged at the figure. Hermione tried to squint through the pain, barely making out a blurry battle as the centaur fought off the cloaked creature.

-/-

It was several minutes before the pain in their scar cleared enough for either of them to be able to stand. A different centaur stood over them; this one looked younger. He had white-blonde hair and a palomino body.

“Are you all right?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Peachy,” said Hermione, her voice cracking. “Thank you for saving us.” She tried to smile at the centaur whose eyes had snapped to their foreheads, lingering on the scar which now stood out, bright red and livid, on their foreheads.

“You are the Potter Twins,” he said. “We must get you back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time – especially for you two. Can you ride? It will be quicker.” He lowered his front legs to allow them to climb on. “My name is Firenze.”

Before they could leave, there was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.

“Firenze!” Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have humans on your back. Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?”

“Do you realise who they are?” exclaimed Firenze. “These are the Potter Twins. The quicker they leave the forest, the better.”

“What have you been telling them?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?”

“Do you not see that unicorn?” Firenze bellowed at Bane. “Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in our forest, Bane.” At that, Firenze whisked around and plunged off through the trees.

< What do you know about centaurs? > Harry asked.

< Not a damn thing, unfortunately, > replied Hermione, gripping tightly to her brother. < Your turn to dig for information. >

“Why’s Bane so angry?” asked Harry. “What was that thing you saved us from?”

Firenze slowed to a walk before stopping. He twisted to face them. “Do you know what unicorn blood is used for?”

“No,” replied Harry, frowning at the question. “We’ve only used the horn and tail-hair in Potions.”

“That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn,” said Firenze. “Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something so pure and defenceless to save yourself that, from the moment the blood passes your lips, you will have but a half-life, a cursed life.”

“Who would be that desperate?” Hermione exclaimed, horrified. “If you’re going to be cursed forever, death is better.”

“It is,” Firenze agreed sagely, “unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else – something that will bring you back to full strength and power – something that will mean you can never die. Tell me, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?”

“The Philosopher’s Stone, which produces the Elixir of Life,” Hermione replied.

“Yes, and can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?”

A horrible jolt ran through the bond as they realised what he was saying.

“Are you saying that was Voldemort?” Harry croaked, aghast.

Before Firenze could answer, Hagrid came blundering down the path. “Harry! Hermione! Are yehs all right?”

“This is where I leave you,” Firenze murmured as they slid off his back. “You are safe now. Good luck to you both. The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs, but even so. Mars is bright tonight.” He galloped back into the darkness of the forest.

-/-

They slumped exhausted onto the train.

< Fuck me dead, > Hermione said, closing her eyes. < This shit never happened to Matilda. > Harry weakly agreed.


	15. When There's A Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
> Thanks for reading so far.  
> Struggled a bit with this chapter. I have job applications and lots of other stuff going on at the moment. 
> 
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >  
> Parseltongue is in italics
> 
> Let me know what you think :) I love comments and kudos.

“We wish to speak to our account manager and review our holdings,” Hermione sniffed in her best Pureblood voice. Draco had instructed them to act as haughty as possible, insisting that it was simply the best way to get what they wanted. Since Draco always seemed to get his way, they both agreed it couldn’t hurt.

They had been led into a smaller room following that, and the same goblin that had shown them their Vault before was sitting behind the table.

“And what can Gringotts do for the Potter Twins today?” asked Griphook.

“We’d like to see our parent’s Will, please,” Harry replied.

“Very well. All of your parents’ final effects, including their Will, is in the main Potter Vault. Follow me.”

-/-

The size of the main vault had left Harry and Hermione speechless. There was untold wealth, but also priceless furniture, art, and jewellery. Their eyes gently traced the portraits of their ancestors, sleeping in their frames, noting the similarities between them all.

< We don’t know anything about our family, > Hermione said mournfully, now looking down at a collection of wands carefully displayed.

< Well, let’s start with the Will, > Harry replied, wordlessly taking the document from Griphook’s proffered hand with a nod.

The will itself was short. All Potter holdings had been left for Harry and Hermione, most tied up until they reached the age of maturity. There was also a bundle of letters for people that apparently had never been sent.

< Here it is, > Hermione said, eyes whizzing through the document. < In the unfortunate event of our passing, it is our wish that our children be raised by their godfather Sirius Black. If that is not possible, then our second wish is for them to be raised by Frank and Alice Longbottom. Again, if this is not possible, it is our wish that they be raised by a loving wizarding family. >

< We have a godfather? > Harry exclaimed.

< We’ve been fucked over, is what this says, > Hermione said. < Dumbledore put us with the Dursleys against the express wishes of our parents. But why? I don’t understand. Even if this Sirius Black person wasn’t available, why weren’t we raised with Neville? Or any other family? >

“Griphook,” Harry said, “who else has access to our Vault?”

“Only you two and the executor of your estate.”

“Who is?”

“Sirius Black, who is, of course, locked away in Azkaban Prison.” The goblin gave a nasty smile at that. “No-one else has access, I can promise you that.”

< Gods, the list of things we don’t know and understand just grows longer, > Hermione sniped. “Griphook, do we have any property holdings?”

The goblin raised his brow at that. “Of course you do. Potter Manor has been the ancestral seat of your family for centuries. On top of that, the Potter family owns numerous estates around Britain as well as a few places in Europe. And there is, of course, the house in Godric's Hollow but I understand that it is now essentially a memorial, having remained untouched since the destruction of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

Harry and Hermione blinked at him.

“Are you saying we own a house?” they said together. “How do we get there?”

-/-

Hermione was dancing erratically up the entrance to the beat of < We have a house, yeah! We have a house, yeah! We have a house, yeah! > Harry was walking serenely beside her, dodging her occasional enthusiastic jabs. He held his hand out as Echidna slithered out of her pocket allowing her to climb up to his shoulder instead.

_“ **What** is she doing, Speaker Harry?” _

_“I believe she’s dancing, Kid,”_ Harry replied. He laughed at the withering look her snake managed to give him. Typhon slithered up to sit on his other shoulder.

They’d taken the Knight Bus – a truly terrifying experience for all involved. They’d kept the hoods of their dark green cloaks up to avoid being recognised, cautious that far too many people seemed to know who they were. They were now walking up a driveway framed with flowering trees, verdant overgrown grounds sweeping out around them. Griphook had explained that the Manor had stood untouched after their grandparents’ death, all the wards and protections still in place as though the war was still raging, and so could only be accessed by Potters of blood and name.

< We have a house, yeah! We have a – holy fucking shit! > Hermione broke off, as the manor appeared in front of them.

It was half destroyed.

The standing half of the house was elegant, white walls with wooden trim and Gothic-inspired windows. Creeping ivy grew up the walls and had spread over the rubble of the broken half.

< What happened here? Griphook didn’t say anything about the house being destroyed, > Harry said, looking around the rest of the grounds. Besides the half-destroyed bit, everything else looked intact, if not a bit overgrown and wild.

_“Kid and Ty, can you grow big for us and check out the house? Come back if you smell anything dangerous,”_ Hermione hissed to the two snakes perched on Harry’s shoulders. They took off towards the house, growing larger with each second. < Well, half a house is still better than the Dursleys, > she said. < It’s the wards that we’re mainly interested in, anyway. A roof over our heads and wards we can practice magic behind. >

< And these open grounds to practice Quidditch, > Harry said.

< I don’t even care that its half destroyed. This is like when Miss Honey got her house back. No more cupboard under the stairs for us, Me. We’re both Matilda and Miss Honey and this is our house, > Hermione said, starting to dance up the path again. < We have a house, yeah! We have a house, yeah! >

-/-

Hermione had continued her dance through their exploration of the house, once Kid and Ty had come back and assured them it was safe. The front entrance and staircase remained intact as well as the kitchen, the main bedroom with adjoining ensuite, and half of the lounge room. Missing was the other half of the lounge room, the library (much to Hermione’s intense disappointment), and the other bedrooms and bathrooms. A layer of dust covered everything and there was an unnatural stillness to the house. They’d retreated to their trunk and Hermione had brought out some parchment to start making a plan.

< Alright, Me. What do we need to figure out, what do we need to do? > Hermione said, carefully writing out ‘What We Need To Do Next’ at the top of the parchment.

< Hope you’ve got a lot of parchment, Mi, > he said wryly. < First off, exams are in the next few weeks. How are we feeling? >

< Well, we’ve certainly spent a lot of time in the library this year, so I think our theory is where it should be. And all our professors have been encouraging in class - >

< Except for Snape, > Harry interjected.

< Yes, but he hasn’t been negative either. He just completely ignores us. But our spells all work, and our potions come out perfect. I think we’ll be ok. We just need to keep up the revising. >

< Bit hard to keep revising when we’re getting attacked in the fucking Forbidden Forest, > Harry said.

< And that brings us to Item Number Two – what the fuck happened in the forest? First of all, we should never have been there. It was completely inappropriate for that to be our punishment, > Hermione said.

< Mi, we got attacked by fucking Voldemort, who was drinking unicorn blood to keep himself alive. Forget the inappropriateness. We could have died. And apparently, he’s going to try and steal the Stone, which means Snape must be working with him, > Harry exclaimed.

< I just don’t understand. Why is the Stone even in Hogwarts? Why take it out of Gringotts? It’s like waving a red flag at Voldemort, for crying out loud, > Hermione said.

< Maybe it is deliberate, > Harry said slowly, turning her words over in their heads. 

< What the fuck kinda school? > Hermione bitched. < Even then, what do we do about it? I suppose we have to tell someone, but who? >

< Well not Dumbledore or Snape, obviously. Hagrid wouldn’t be of any use. Maybe McGonagall? She seems to like you? > Harry mused. Hermione wrote down ‘tell McGonagall that Voldemort is going to steal the Stone’.

< Alright, third on the list. The summer holidays. Obviously, we’re not going back to the Dursleys and I’m happy to stay here. We just need to figure out some cleaning spells and how to get food. >

< We’ll need to test the Trace in our first week. Make sure we actually can use magic. No point doing it now, we don’t want people to know where we are just yet. It will be interesting to see if anyone says anything when we go back, but even more interesting if someone says something after the summer holidays. That way we’ll know for sure if we were ever monitored at the Dursleys, like Hagrid said we were, > Harry said.

< And that brings us to the most pressing issue – what do we do about the Will? > Hermione said.

< I don’t think there’s anything we can do. It’s clear it wasn’t followed. Judging by the unsent letters, it doesn’t look like it ever even got a look in. But if Dumbledore did send us to the Dursleys, against the express wishes of our parents, we still don’t know why. And regardless of the fact that he’s an old goat, he’s still headmaster and a very powerful man. I don’t think there’s anything we can do just yet. >

< Well, he’s still on my Revenge List, > Hermione said lowly, < but I can wait to get my revenge. >


	16. Don't Mention the Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone :)  
> Here's the next chapter - figured I may as well post it while the goings hot - before I get bogged down with boring life stuff again  
> We're coming up to the climax of this little story  
> Hope you've all enjoyed it so far 
> 
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >
> 
> Let me know what you think

The bond was on edge when they arrived back in Hogwarts, a constant thrum bouncing between the two of them. They half expected Voldemort to jump out from behind the nearest statue, and none of it was helped by the constant prickling of their scars. Whereas before it had only occasionally twinged, from the moment they’d arrived back in the castle, it was as non-stop as their bond.

Despite that, no-one accosted them about their whereabouts during the brief Easter break which gave them some pause of relief. Telling Professor McGonagall, however, had not gone well.

They’d approached her after one of their Transfiguration lessons, and she’d nodded warmly at them initially before asking them what they wanted to review. They jostled each other briefly through the bond before agreeing that just spitting it out would be the best approach.

“Professor, it’s important. It’s about the Philosopher’s Stone –“ Before they could say anything further, Professor McGonagall had jerked behind her desk and sent a stack of books flying.

“How do you know?” she spluttered.

“Professor, we know that someone’s going to try and steal the Stone, and we think that someone is – well, we think that someone is You-Know-Who,” they said together.

Her face went white at that and she eyed them with a mixture of shock and suspicion, her mouth thinning.

“I don’t know how you found about the Stone, but rest assured, no-one can possibly steal it, it’s too well protected, and You-Know-Who was vanquished. He certainly isn’t about to waltz into a school,” she said, breathing heavily. “I suggest you go back to your study and make no mention of these wild accusations to anyone else.”

< Well, adults remain useless and annoying, > Hermione griped, as they swept out of the classroom, heading back to the library. < I suppose we just have to keep an eye on Snape? What else can we do? >

< Let’s go see if we can get anything else out of Hagrid, > Harry said, leading them out of the castle and down the grounds.

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper’s hut, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called “Who is it?” before he let them in and then shut the door quickly behind them.

It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which they refused on principle, the rock cakes still a strong unpleasant memory.

“So, how are yehs goin’?” Hagrid asked.

“Yeah, good,” Hermione said. “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Philosopher’s Stone apart from Fluffy?”

< Way to butter him up first, Mi, > Harry said, internally shaking his head.

Hagrid was staring at them in shock.

“How do yehs know about the Stone? And o’ course I can’t. Number one, I don’ know meself. Number two, yehs know too much already, so I wouldn’ tell yeh if I could. That Stone’s here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts – I s’ppose yeh’ve worked that out an’ all?”

< Hmm, we hadn’t actually. It’s supposed to be pretty much impossible to steal something out of Gringotts. What makes Hogwarts any safer? > Hermione mused.

“Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on around here,” Harry said, in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid’s beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling. “We only wondered who had done the guarding, really. We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you.”

Hagrid’s chest swelled at those last words. Harry managed to stop himself from snorting. < I wish everyone was this easy to manipulate, > he said.

“Well, I don’ s’pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that … let’s see … he borrowed Fluffy from me … then some o’ the teachers did enchantments … Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall –“ he ticked them off on his fingers, “Professor Quirrell – an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.”

Harry and Hermione zapped each other in sync at his words. < Professor Snape?! > Hermione exclaimed. < If that’s the case, then it’s essentially only Fluffy and Quirrell guarding the stone. >

“You’re the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren’t you, Hagrid?” Harry said anxiously. “And you wouldn’t tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?”

“Not a soul knows except me an’ Dumbledore,” said Hagrid proudly.

“Well, that’s something,” Hermione muttered. “Hagrid, can we have a window open or something? It’s boiling in here.”

“Can’t, sorry,” Hagrid said, glancing towards the fire. Harry followed his line of sight and his jaw dropped.

“Hagrid – what’s that?”

But they both already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

< Oh no, > Hermione said. < Oh no, no, no. This is some extra fuckery we don’t need in our lives. >

“Where did you get it, Hagrid?” said Harry, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. “It’s not even legal to have one, and they’re really expensive and rare.”

“Won it,” said Hagrid. “I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.”

“And just what do you think you’ll be doing with it when it’s hatched?” asked Hermione.

“Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’,” Hagrid said, pulling some large books down onto the table. “Got these outta the library – it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, ‘cause their mothers breathe on ‘em, see, an’ when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An’ see here – how ter recognise different eggs – what I got there’s a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re very rare, them. I’ve always wanted a dragon, ever since I was a little kid, they’re amazin’ creatures.” He sat back looking very pleased with himself as Hermione stared at him incredulously.

“Hagrid, you live in a wooden house!”

“Hang on,” Harry said, his mind clicking through everything Hagrid had said. “How common is it for someone to just have a dragon egg on them?”

“I s’pose it’s pretty uncommon,” Hagrid said, stoking the fire.

< And someone just happens to find Hagrid? > Harry said darkly. < What are the chances of that? >

< Pretty fucking low, > Hermione said, the bond humming as they spun out ideas. “What was this stranger like, Hagrid?” she asked, once again putting on her innocent face.

“Dunno,” he said casually, “he wouldn’ take his cloak off.” He raised his eyebrows at their confused expressions. “It’s not that unusual, yeh get a lot o’ funny folk in the Hog’s Head – that’s the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn’ he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up.”

“Sounds like an interesting place,” Hermione said sweetly. “What did you talk to him about? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?”

“Mighta come up,” Hagrid said, frowning as he tried to remember. “Yeah … he asked what I did, an’ I told him I was gamekeeper here … He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after … so I told him … an’ I said what I’d always really wanted was a dragon … an’ then … I can’ remember too well ‘cause he kept buyin’ me drinks … Let’s see … yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an’ we could play cards fer it if I wanted … but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn’ want it ter go ter any old home … So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy …”

“Oh!” Harry said brightly. “And did he seem interested in Fluffy?” Hermione was screeching in the bond.

“Well – yeah – how many three-headed dogs d’yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy’s a piece o’ cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus’ play him a bit o’ music an’ he’ll go straight off ter sleep. So we played cards an’ I won,” Hagrid said, continuing to stoke the fire around the egg.

Hermione continued to just wordlessly screech through the bond.

“Well,” Harry said, with way more calm than he felt, “we better get back to our study. We’ll see you later, yeah?” Without waiting for a reply, he bustled his sister out of the stifling hut, and they sprinted away.

< Fuck, fuck, fuck! > Hermione was repeating loudly.

< Fuck, remind me never to trust Hagrid with a fucking secret, > Harry said. < What the hell are we going to do? >

< Snape only needs Quirrell to snap and he has all the information he needs to get the Stone for Voldemort. >

< That might have already happened. Like you said, it would take a stiff breeze to make Quirrell snap. I bet this is why our scars been hurting. Voldemort is out there, in the forest, and Snape is going to get the Stone. >

< What would Matilda do, Me? > Hermione whispered. The bond crackled louder as they stared at each other.

< You know what she’d do, Mi, > he replied.

< She’d stop him. Steal the Stone and stop him from returning to power. >

< I reckon Voldemort’s a bit scarier than Trunchbull, > Harry said, trying to laugh.

< I reckon so too, Me, but what choice do we have? >

< Well, maybe Hagrid's dragon will hatch and kill us all first. We can only hope, > Harry said. 


	17. Down The Rabbit Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next bit; they're down the trapdoor!  
> Thanks to everyone who has commented or left kudos - love to you all 
> 
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >

< This is the worst idea ever, this is the worst idea ever, this is the worst idea ever in the whole entire world, > Hermione sung over and over, squished under the Cloak next to Harry as they made their way towards the forbidden corridor.

< Please shut up, > Harry replied, as they tiptoed towards the door that hid Hagrid’s ridiculous pet. < We have a plan. >

< I don’t know that ‘get the stone first’ is technically a plan. It’s hardly a fucking thought. >

< And yet here we are, so open the bloody door already, > Harry said.

Hermione made a face at him as she whispered the incantation and pushed the door open. As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog’s noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn’t see them.

< Maybe this is the worst idea in the whole world, > Harry said as he stared up at the dog. < Well, here goes… > He put Hagrid’s whittled flute to his lips and blew. It wasn’t really a tune but from the first note the beast’s eyes began to droop. Slowly, the dog’s growls ceased – it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep.

< Keep playing while I open the trapdoor, > Hermione said, bending down to push one ginormous paw off said door. She bent and pulled the ring carefully, the door swinging up and open. < I can’t see anything, it’s just black. There’s no way of climbing down at all, it looks like we just have to drop. >

< Alright, > Harry said, whose cheeks were starting to get sore from the constant tweeting on the flute. < Grab the cloak off me, shove it in the bag, and then on the count of three, we’ll jump down together. >

< I’m gonna haunt you so bad if we die, > Hermione said, as they stood at the mouth of the hole. She grabbed his hand. < One…. Two…. Three…. >

Cold damp air rushed past them as they fell down, down, down, and –

FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump they landed on something soft. It felt as though they were sitting on some sort of plant.

< What is this stuff? > Harry asked, trying to stand up. He realised with horror that whatever it was had tied itself around his legs.

< Fuck! > Hermione yelled. < It’s fucking Devil’s Snare. > The plant continued to wind itself around their legs, tying them down, twisting tighter and tighter. < Devil’s snare, devil’s snare. It’s deadly fun …. >

< Oh yes, I was thinking this was a lot of fun, > Harry said, the tendrils now curling around his waist.

< Shut the fuck up. It’s deadly fun BUT WILL SULK IN THE SUN. > She flung her wand arm out and shouted “ _Lumos Solem!”_. Bright sunlight burst from her wand, soaking onto the plant which seemed to scream as the light burnt it. Harry felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light. He pulled his sister free and they hurried away.

< Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, hey Mi, > he said, leading them down a stone passageway which was the only way on. Hermione jabbed him several times through the bond.

All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downwards, and Harry was suddenly reminded of Gringotts. Before he could even say anything, Hermione was there over the bond.

< Do not even think about it. Just because Hagrid somehow managed to get one dragon’s egg does not mean there will be a fucking dragon down here. And if there is, we will politely turn around, and allow Voldemort to be eaten by said dragon, > she said primly.

< Alright, > Harry said. < Hang on, can you hear something? > A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming up from ahead. < It sounds like wings. >

They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

< Do you think they’ll attack us if we cross the room? > Hermione asked.

< Well, we don’t have an Invisibility Cloak for nothing, > Harry replied, swinging the cloak around both of them and creeping towards the door. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn’t budge, not even when Hermione tried the Alohomora charm or they tried their old lock picking tricks. Hermione swung around and examined the room.

< These birds … they can’t be here just for decoration, > she said, squinting up towards the ceiling, watching the light glitter off them. < Hang on, they’re glittering. Me Me, they’re keys. Flying keys. >

< So that must mean … > Harry looked around the chamber, finally spotting three broomsticks in the corner. < Yes! We’ve got to fly and catch the key to the door. >

< There ain’t no we here. I did the Devil’s snare; you can do the flying like a madman bit. You’re looking for a big, old-fashioned one – probably silver, like the handle here. >

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed one of the brooms, kicking off into the swarm of keys above him. They darted and dived so quickly that it was almost impossible to catch one. He caught a few different silver ones, throwing them down to Hermione, but none of them were right.

He felt like he’d been flying for hours when he finally spotted a large silver key with bright-blue wings. He just knew it was the right one. He looped underneath it and swung his broom 180 degrees, snatching the key out of the air before it could dart away again, and dived towards his sister. He came to a quick stop just in front of her, laughing at her little shriek.

< I am definitely making Seeker next year, > he said smugly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, snatching the key from his hand and ramming it into the lock. The door clicked open.

The next chamber was so dark they couldn’t see anything at all. They crept slowly forwards, Harry still holding onto the broom. As they stepped forward, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

< I fucking hate chess, > Harry said. < Do you suppose Voldemort also hates chess? >


	18. Cheat Codes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy the next chapter.   
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >  
> Let me know what you think :)

They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry and Hermione shivered slightly – the towering white chessmen had no faces.

Harry searched around the chamber as Hermione started softly swearing over the bond.

< Get on the broom, > Harry said suddenly. Hermione gave him an incredulous look.

< I shall do no such thing! >

< Mi heart, > he said affectionately. < You are the best at pretty much everything, but neither of us are any good at chess. Get on the broom. >

< Ohhhhh, you’re thinking laterally, > she said. She looked impressed despite herself as she climbed on the broom. < What happens if this doesn’t work? >

< We can feed Snape to Fluffy. > With that, he took off over the ginormous chessboard, Hermione screaming through the bond, clutching on for dear life.

They landed softly in front of the door behind the white chessmen and held their breath but there was no movement from any of the pieces.

< Shut up, > Hermione said.

< What?! > Harry exclaimed.

< I can feel your smugness radiating over the bond, you dick. I’m solving the next one for sure, > she said, as they crept down the passageway.

< What do you reckon’s next? >

< Well, we’ve had Sprout’s with the Devil’s snare – Flitwick must’ve put charms on the keys – I reckon McGonagall will have transfigured those chessmen – which leaves Quirrell and Snape, > she said, counting them off.

< And Dumbledore will have done something too, > Harry added, stopping towards the next door. < What do you reckon? Snape or Quirrell? >

Hermione pushed the door open and then immediately slammed it shut again, turning around with horror on her face. Before Harry could even ask, the smell hit him.

< Another fucking troll? > he said, gagging. < Really? >

< What the hell are we going to do? > Hermione asked exasperatedly.

< I thought you were gonna solve this one, > Harry grinned, unable to help himself. Hermione narrowed her eyebrows at him.

< Right, well here’s a good idea. I’ll throw you in and while the troll is distracted, I’ll make it through. It was nice knowing you though, > she sniped.

< Get on the broom, > Harry said. < We’ll just quickly fly to the other door. >

< Ugh, fine. But I’m definitely solving the next one, even if I have to hit you over the head with this stupid broom, > she said.

They both awkwardly stood with the broom between their legs as they opened the door, hoping the troll wasn’t immediately outside the door. They sped off, Hermione’s hair whipping backwards as they shot like a bullet towards the opposite door. Trying as hard as she could to hold her arm steady, she pointed her wand at the rapidly incoming door, trying to ignore the roar of the troll, as she screamed _“Alohomora!”._

With a bang, the door flew open and before she could draw breath, they were through. Harry abruptly turned the broom and Hermione, not expecting it, kept flying, tumbling down onto the stone floor. Harry slammed the door shut on the approaching troll before turning to wince at her.

< Sorry, Mi, > he said, helping her up. < Just didn’t want the troll to come through with us. >

< No, no. Very valid. Would have made everything a complete waste of time if the troll crushed our skulls in down here, > she said, dusting her robes off. < Come on, you can open the next door and tell me what horror awaits us. >

< Oh, what an honour. Thank you, > Harry said, pulling open the next door and quickly ducking his head inside. < I mean, it is Snape’s thing, so it’ll be a horror even if it’s his teddy bear. >

There was nothing very frightening though, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line. He tugged Hermione through the door and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn’t ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onwards. They were trapped.

< Shut up, > Hermione said. < Whatever this is, I’m going to goddamn solve it. We are not flying over these goddamn flames. >

Harry rolled his eyes and moved towards the table, picking up the roll of paper lying next to the bottles. There was a riddle inscribed:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

< Ugh, well get cracking then. I’ll just have a seat here and prepare to be amazed at your genius, > Harry said.

He settled down on the stone floor and watched as Hermione re-read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands.

< Got it, > she said smugly. < The smallest bottle takes you through the black fire – towards the Stone. > She held up the tiny bottle.

< But there’s only enough for one of us, > Harry pointed out. < There’s barely one swallow in there. > They looked at each other. < And what one gets you back through the purple flames? >

Hermione pointed at a larger rounded bottle at the right end of the line.

< Well, at least there’s two swallows in there so we can both go back through the purple flames. So, who goes forward? > Harry asked.

< I’m not letting you go forward alone. What if something happens? We have no idea what’s in the next chamber, > Hermione said, her brow knitting together in worry. < Ughhhhhhhh, we’re going to have to fly over the stupid flames. >

< Sure you don’t wanna join the Quidditch team next year, Mi? > Harry asked, grinning, holding the broom out towards her.

< This is the stupidest fucking thing. How is this protecting the Stone when you can just cheat through like half of these? > she whinged.

< I’m starting to think this world is full of idiots, unfortunately, Mi. Also, we’re used to cheating. >

They hovered up into the air before approaching the crackling black flames. Before they could fly over them, the black flames shot up to the ceiling, and tongues of fire snaked forward, scorching both of them with the heat emanating from it.

< It’s like it heard me whinging about it being too easy to cheat, > Hermione said as Harry swung them away from the flames. They landed back in front of the bottles again.

Harry rubbed his soot-stained face, looking across at Hermione.

“What now?” he said, speaking out loud. Hermione startled as his voice echoed around the stone chamber.

“I don’t like it,” she croaked out. “But I like the thought of an immortal Voldemort even less. At least we’re in each other’s heads. If something happens, one of us can rush back through and go and get help I suppose. But I don’t like it.”

“And I hate what I’m about to say even more, but if we’re relying on someone rushing back through, then I’m better on a broom.”

“Gods, you know I hate it when you’re right,” Hermione said. She moved towards the tiniest bottle on the table before looking again at Harry. < Don’t leave me alone in here. >

< Never, > he said. < I’m always in here with you. After all, what do we have? >

< Just me and mine, > she replied, before quickly swallowing down the contents in one gulp. It felt like ice flooding through her body. She braced herself as she approached the black flames, breathing a sigh of relief as she felt nothing. For a moment, she could see nothing but dark fire – then she was on the other side, in the last chamber.


	19. The Looking-Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick little chapter.  
> Hoping to bang out the next few soon.  
> Mind speak denoted by < xx >  
> Thanks for all the comments :) :)

It was the Mirror of Erised.

It stood at the centre of the room, stone steps leading down to it. There didn’t appear to be any other exits. She slowly crept around the room but there was nothing behind the Mirror. The rest of the chamber was bare, the sound of the crackling fire the only noise.

< It’s that fucking mirror, > she said. She felt Harry sink further into her mind, looking out through her eyes and felt the bond crackle as he scowled at the sight.

< What are you supposed to do? Smash the Mirror? > he asked.

< I don’t know. I’ll look into it. I need you to keep your distance so that you can yank me out if you need to, > she said, eyeing off the mirror.

< I don’t like it, > Harry immediately said. < What if you get stuck? >

< Then you try to yank me out, or you go and get help, > Hermione replied. She took a deep breath in and jumped in front of the mirror, staring defiantly into it.

Her own reflection stared recklessly back at her before smiling. She watched as her mirror-self put her hand in her pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. She winked and put the Stone back in her pocket – and as it happened, Hermione felt something heavy drop into her real pocket. Somehow – incredibly – she’d got the Stone.

She yanked herself away from the Mirror, lest the image change into something more haunting, and glanced desperately around the room. It remained empty.

< Me, I’ve got the Stone, > she exclaimed, hardly daring to believe it. She fled towards the black flames and nearly sobbed with relief as they let her pass. She rushed towards her brother, pulling the Stone from her pocket.

< Holy shit, > he said, looking down at it. < How did you get it? >

< I looked into the Mirror and my reflection put it in my pocket and it just appeared there, > she replied.

< What?! How is that supposed to stop Voldemort from getting the Stone then? > he asked.

< I have no idea; it doesn’t make any sense. None of this does, > Hermione said, pocketing the Stone again. < But staying here isn’t going to make it make any more sense. Let’s get out of this hellhole. > Her eyes swept towards the rounded bottle that held the key to safety back through the purple flames but something else caught her eye first.

She hurried towards the table and help up the tiny bottle again, her eyes widening as she realised.

< Me! > she exclaimed. < The bottle – it’s full again. > She brandished it towards Harry who stumbled back off the broom.

< They must refill, > he mused, eyeing the bottle. < I suppose that does help us. No-one will know that we’ve been down here. >

Hermione turned to the table again and picked up one of the other bottles before hurrying over to the flames and emptying the contents out into fire. She re-sat the bottle back on the table and started counting out loud.

< Don’t interrupt me, > she shot quickly, continuing to count, before Harry could ask. Harry rolled his eyes, hopping back on the broom, letting himself drift around in the room.

What felt far too long later to Harry, Hermione exclaimed loudly. The bottle had started to re-fill. < Roughly five minutes, > she said, smiling.

< Thrilling. Get on the broom so we can get the hell out of here, > Harry said, bringing the broom back towards her.

< Drink the magic potion first, idiot, > she sniped, taking a mouthful from the rounded bottle.

-/-

Hermione flopped into her bed, feeling Harry do the same thing over the bond. The stone had been hidden in a hollowed-out book down in the library in her suitcase. Harry had chucked the stolen broomstick into his suitcase. 

< Now we’ve just gotta pass our exams, > she said.

< Fuck, > Harry replied.

< It’ll be fine. What else can go wrong? >

< I can't believe you'd tempt fate like that. Now shush, I'm definitely sleeping in, > Harry said, rolling over. 


	20. Let's Go Kill Snape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone :)  
> Another chapter.  
> I should say, I know a lot of people like to write Harry and Hermione as really smart. Certainly, I want these two to be smart, but at the moment, they remain quite dumb eleven year olds.  
> Probably because, at heart, I am a dumb eleven year old.  
> Anyway, hope you enjoy. We're approaching the end of this story, and I'll start to write Year Two soon.  
> Oh, and thanks to peeps for picking up my mistakes.  
> Harry calls Hermione 'Mi'  
> Hermione calls Harry 'Me'  
> Thought speak denoted by < xx >  
> Let me know what you think

< How many mistletoe berries are we supposed to crush again? > Harry asked, looking around his station. It was their Potions exam and they were brewing a Forgetfulness potion. 

< Four, and make sure you crush it to a fine powder, > Hermione replied, slowly stirring her own Potion.

< Maybe we could give this to Snape, and he could forget all about the Stone and what not, > Harry mused, starting to crush the berries in his mortar. Hermione rolled her eyes, refusing to deign that with a response.

Neither of them were quite sure how they’d managed to get through the exams so far, half-expecting Voldemort to crash through the doors at any moment. Nevertheless, they’d dragged each other through, and Hermione was fairly confident she’d managed to top the year in at least Charms and Transfiguration.

-/-

< Just think, Me. We just have to get through this stupid History of Magic exam and then we’re done. One week of relaxing while the poor fifth years do their OWLs, and then … holidays and freedom! > Hermione said, skipping towards their last exam.

< Don’t forget the End-of-Year Feast, > Harry said, flatly refusing to skip. < Slytherin is still on top, and the only ones who can catch us are Ravenclaw. I reckon we’ve got the House Cup in the bag. >

< I just hope holidays mean our scars stop twinging all the fucking time. It’s hard enough to remember all these fucking goblin riots without being interrupted by my stupid forehead, > Hermione said, peering into the empty exam hall.

< I’m dropping this subject as soon as possible. I still can’t believe they let a fucking ghost teach. >

< It’s not even the most ludicrous thing this school has done, > Hermione said. < I will literally never get over our detention in the Forbidden fucking Forest. >

< Maybe exorcising Binns could be our holiday homework, > Harry laughed.

< Don’t tempt me, > Hermione said darkly.

-/-

< That was far easier than I thought it would be, > Hermione said, as they joined the crowds flocking out into the sunny grounds. < I needn’t have learnt about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager. >

< Gods, and I didn’t have to learn it either, but you are a swot, > Harry said as they wandered down to the lake, flopping under a tree close to the water edge. The Weasley twins were tickling the tentacles of the giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.

Hermione pouted at him before leaning back against the tree, staring up at the bright blue sky. < See if I help you out next Potions exam. >

< See if I help you out next Defence exam, > Harry shot back. They looked at each other before breaking out into laughter.

-/-

Hermione was nestled in her bed, slowly listing all the different things they’d need to get somehow in order to settle in at Potter Manor for the summer. They were in the midst of a spirited debate about the best way to get food when fire flared out of nowhere and a piece of parchment floated down in front of them.

They both sat bolt upright in their respective beds, alarm flaring through the bond, as the fire faded.

< Chance of this being a nice little message from a friend? > Hermione asked, her voice wavering slightly.

< Literally none, Mi, > he replied, slowly picking up the charred paper. < We don’t have that kind of life. > She slipped further into his mind as he opened up the note.

_I have your friend. Be at the Mirror or be responsible for his death. Tell no-one or you will find naught but his corpse._

< Neville! > Hermione gasped, abruptly furious. < That miserable slimy dungeon bat. I’m gonna gut him like a fish. > She threw herself out of bed, reaching for her trunk.

< Stop! > Harry said loudly. < What the fuck are we going to do? We’ve already got the Stone. >

< We’ll have to take it with us, see if we can use it to save Neville, > Hermione replied, throwing herself down into her trunk. 

< And risk Voldemort getting it and becoming immortal? > Harry said, grabbing the broom and the Cloak out of his trunk.

< We can’t sacrifice Neville, Me, > her voice quiet. < I don’t care if it’s what’s better for everyone else, I don’t care about them. > She felt him sigh over the bond.

< What would Matilda do? > he asked, throwing the Cloak over himself. 

< She’d rescue Lavender, but she’d be smart about it, > Hermione replied, looking at the Stone in her hand.

< And you’re the smartest person I know, Mi. Alright, come on. Bring the Stone. Let’s go kill Snape. >

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN - When Hermione says that 'she'd rescue Lavender' - I'm referring to Matilda's best friend Lavender. Sorry for any confusion


	21. Down The Rabbit Hole Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final confrontation is nearly here !!!   
> Comments feed my soul. Let me know what you think :)
> 
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >

Fluffy was asleep. There was a harp at its feet, plucking out a soft tune. The snores just about blew the Cloak off them. The trapdoor was open.

< Gods, I can’t believe we made our way through this stupid obstacle course already and Voldemort has the nerve to drag us down here again, > Hermione said.

< Yes, what a spectacularly rude individual, > Harry sniped. < I’ll make sure to tell him. > Hermione jabbed him through the bond.

< Shut up. It’s called using humour to cope with stress. >

< Well, you let me know when you start being funny then, > Harry shot back, a small giggle escaping him despite himself. He shook his head. < Come on, let’s go get strangled by a plant. > Without waiting for Hermione’s no doubt snarky reply, he threw himself down the trapdoor.

A soft whump let him know that she’d followed him down. Before he could move, she snapped her wand out and, pointing it at his face, whispered _“Lumos Solem”._ Blinding light shot him in the face before he could cover his eyes.

< Just so you know, that was me being funny, > Hermione said, wiggling out of the crawling vines. Harry wondered if he should just let the vines finish him off. < Absolutely not, > came Hermione over the bond. < I’m not flying after that stupid key. You can drink Snape’s poisoned wine if you really want. >

< I look forward to you making Voldemort laugh himself to death, > Harry griped, ignoring her rude hand gesture.

-/-

The troll was thankfully knocked out, a bloody lump on its head, but the rest of the obstacles went much the same as before, the stolen broom doing most of the heavy lifting, and before they knew it, they were back in front of Snape’s puzzle. The mood was more sombre now. They looked at each other silently, before Harry took a deep breath in.

< Beyond those flames is Neville, Snape, that cursed mirror, and possibly Voldemort, > he began. < We need a plan, Mi. >

< We need to get through the flames together. One of us can’t be here for the next five minutes just waiting. And we’re going to need to surprise Snape somehow. He may be an ugly greasy bat but we’re no match for him. We’re eleven, for fuck sake. It doesn’t matter that we’re the Twins-Who-Lived, and I really don’t want to be the Twins-Who-Died. >

< Well, presuming we can get through the flames at the same time, one of us should be invisible then. That qualifies as a surprise. One of us can distract Snape while the other one gets to Neville, > Harry said, mulling things over.

< I wish we had a knife. Get close enough to gut him. Or imagine just mowing him down with a gun, > Hermione said. A laugh slipped out of Harry at the thought.

< Ok, yes, but I don’t have a gun or a knife. I’ve got a broom and a Cloak, and you’ve got a Stone. >

< Ok, so whoever gets Neville needs to get him out of the room so he can run back and get help, > Hermione said. Harry couldn’t help the look that crossed his face.

< You do remember what happened during our flying lesson, right? >

< What’s the alternative? I won’t leave you alone in there, > Hermione exclaimed. < Neville will have to do his goddamn best. The troll is knocked out, and Fluffy is asleep. Have more faith in Nev, he’s a better wizard than he knows. >

< Well, that leaves Snape, > Harry said. < He’ll notice Neville fleeing, so the element of surprise will be gone the moment you free Nev. He’ll probably attack. >

< The Mirror is going to be the key. It’s the only other thing in the room. If we shatter it then the broken glass should distract him temporarily, > Hermione said, turning over different angles in her head. Harry watched as her mind clicked over things, feeling the bond slowly heighten and crackle as her prodigious talent for planning spun through possibilities. He felt the bond glow as his love for her swept over him.

< I love you, Mi heart, > he said.

< I love you too, Me Me. Here’s what we’re going to do. We go through the flames at the same time. I’ll be under the Cloak. You distract Snape – he seems to hate you more than me – so I’m hoping you’ll be able to get him angry. He’ll be more likely to make a mistake then. While you’re doing that, I’m going to get Neville free. Get him under the Cloak and push him back through the flames to go and get help. That will leave me uncovered for the first time, which should draw his notice. At that moment, I need you to shatter the Mirror. _Bombarda_ should do the trick. That will send glass shards through the room. In that moment, we need to get in close. He needs to use his wand; he’ll be reliant on it. If we get close enough, it makes it harder to throw off spells. Glass is sharp. We need to make him bleed. Get his wand off him. Hope Neville gets help and hope we survive. It’s not much but it’s all we’ve got. The only thing I haven’t figured out is how to get through the flames at the same time. There’s only enough in that bottle for one swallow. >

Harry made a face. < I have something dumb that might just work for that one. >


	22. Defeating Janus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the confrontation!!  
> Only a few chapters left of my first little Harry Potter fanfic.  
> I hope everyone likes it. 
> 
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >  
> Harry calls Hermione 'Mi'  
> Hermione calls Harry 'Me' 
> 
> Sound off in the comments :)

< Don’t you dare laugh, > Harry said. < If you laugh then I’ll laugh, and we’ll have to start all over again. >

< Gods, I’m sorry, > Hermione said, smothering a giggle, < but you look fucking ludicrous. >

Harry was sitting on the stone floor with his head tipped back, the one-swallow-worth of the potion currently sitting in his mouth, as he waited the five minutes before he could swallow, nervously slow-breathing through his nose.

< I said it was a dumb idea, > he griped. < But it’s dumb enough to work, so hush and let me concentrate on not swallowing. Let me know when that stupid bottle refills. >

Hermione took to nervously pacing, her eyes fixed on the small bottle at the end of the table.

In what felt like an eternity later to Harry, the bottle finally refilled. < Fucking finally, > he said, quickly swallowing down his mouthful, as Hermione threw back the bottle. < What do we have? >

< Me and mine, > she replied. < Let’s do Matilda proud. >

They braced themselves as the ice of the potion flooded through their bodies. Hermione threw the Cloak around herself and they slowly walked through the flames. Again, for a moment, there was nothing but the black of the fire, before the last chamber appeared.

There was someone standing in front of the mirror – but it wasn’t Snape. It wasn’t even Voldemort.

-/-

It was Quirrell.

< WHAT?! > they both screeched at the same time, looking down at their Defence Professor. < I’ve never been more wrong in my life, > Hermione continued. They both stayed frozen at the top of the stairs, the black fire flickering at their backs.

Harry looked around the chamber. Neville was tied up at the bottom of the stairs, rope stuffed in his mouth. Quirrell was in front of the Mirror. < This doesn’t change anything, > he said quietly. < Get Neville free. > He took a step down the stairs.

“You!” Harry gasped.

Quirrell spun to face him and smiled. His face wasn’t twitching at all.

“Indeed,” he said calmly. “I’m so glad you’ve finally arrived, Potter. And where is your irritating sister?”

“But I thought – Snape –“ Harry said, side-stepping the question about his sister. Hermione had reached Neville and was slowly trying to undo the myriad of knots.

“Severus?” Quirrell laughed and it wasn’t his usual quivering treble either, but cold and sharp. “Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn’t he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?”

“But Snape hates me!” Harry said, determined to keep all attention on him.

“Not as much as I do. I’d have managed to get to you and your sister far earlier in the year if it wasn’t for Snape interfering with my plans, trying to save you. But all of that is a waste of time now, as after all that, I’m going to kill you tonight.”

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry.

“You’re too nosy to live, Potter. You and your sister scurrying around the school at Halloween like that, for all I knew you’d seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone.”

“You let the troll in?” Harry exclaimed, feeling as Hermione continued to slowly loosen all of Neville’s bindings. Too slowly.

“Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls – you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off – and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s leg off properly,” Quirrell said, turning to face the Mirror. “Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror.”

Harry struggled against his own ropes as Hermione cursed through the bond. < You want a broom? Well, I want a knife. A really big knife. Loosening these is going to take time that we just don’t have. >

“This mirror is the key to finding the Stone,” Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. “Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this … but he’s in London … I’ll be far away by the time he gets back …”

All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him concentrating on the Mirror.

“I saw you and Snape in the forest-“ he blurted out.

“Yes,” said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. “He was onto me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me – as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side…” Quirrell stared hungrily into the mirror. “I see the Stone … I’m presenting it to my master … but where is it?”

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn’t give. He had to keep Quirrell’s attention on him. Hermione was only halfway through.

“What’s Voldemort to you anyway? He’s nothing. A wraith hiding out in the forest,” Harry spat. Quirrell whirled around at that, a look of fury on his face.

“My master is with me wherever I go!” he exclaimed. “I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it… Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me.” Quirrell shivered suddenly. “He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me … decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me…” He turned away from Harry again, cursing under his breath. “I don’t understand … is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?”

< I’ll buy you as many knives as you want, Mi Mi, but please would you hurry up? > Harry said, eyeing off Quirrell nervously. Quirrell ignored him, still talking to himself.

“What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!”

And to Harry and Hermione’s horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

“Use the boy … use the boy…”

Quirrell rounded on Harry. “Yes – Potter – come here.” He clapped his hands once and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry felt frozen.

“Come here,” Quirrell repeated. “Look in the mirror and tell me what you see.”

Harry walked towards him. < Be with me, Mi Mi. Help me look and lie about what I see. >

Quirrell moved close behind him. Harry breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell’s turban. He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror and opened them again.

He saw his reflection, pale and scared looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at him. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket and Harry realised with horror what had just happened. The whole thing was a trap. There was no Stone at all, just fake copies of it. He had a Stone, but there was also one in his sister’s pocket.

“Well?” said Quirrell impatiently. “What do you see?”

Harry felt his sister slip further into his mind and he screwed up his courage. “I see my sister. We’re at the End of Term Feast. Slytherin have won the House Cup.”

Quirrell cursed again. “Get out of the way,” he said, moving back in front of the mirror.

< I need a few more minutes, Me Me. I’m at the last knot and then it will just be a matter of getting Neville under the Cloak and out of here. He knows what to do, > Hermione whispered in his mind.

Before he could reply, that high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn’t moving his lips.

“He lies … he lies …”

“Potter, come back here!” Quirrell shouted. “Tell me the truth! What did you just see?”

The high voice spoke again.

“Let me speak to him … face to face …”

“Master, you are not strong enough!”

“I have strength enough … for this …”

Harry felt as if Devil’s Snare was rooting him to the spot. He couldn’t move a muscle. Petrified, he watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. He could feel Hermione’s panic as she wrenched at the last knot, working through it just as the turban fell away. Quirrell’s head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.

Harry would have screamed, but he couldn’t make a sound. Hermione had screamed over the bond at the sight. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell’s head, there was a face, the most terrible face either of them had ever seen. It was chalk-like with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

“Harry Potter…” it whispered.

Harry tried to take a step backwards, but his legs wouldn’t move.

“See what I have become?” came the sibilant voice. “Mere shadow and vapour … I have form only when I can share another’s body … but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds … Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks … you and your sister saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest … and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own … Now … why don’t you give me that Stone in your pocket?”

So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into Harry’s legs. He stumbled backwards.

“Don’t be a fool,” snarled the face. “Better save your own life and join me … or you’ll meet the same end as your parents … They died begging me for mercy…”

“You lie!” came Hermione’s voice, shouted loud and clear, as she stood at the top of the stairs, the black flames flickering behind her, her wand brandished forward.

Quirrell turned his body, so that Voldemort was facing her. The evil face was now smiling.

“How touching,” it hissed. “Here to save your brother. It matters not. I will kill you both, as I should have done all those years ago. I killed your father first and he put up a courageous fight … but your mother needn’t have died … she was trying to protect you …”

“And yet you couldn’t kill us,” Hermione interrupted, shouting down at Quirrell. “You are indeed mere shadow. Formless! Useless! You have no body, you have no wand.” She took a step down with each word, still brandishing her wand. < Now, Me Me. Shatter the Mirror. >

Harry pulled out his wand and let the bond flow through him as he shouted the incantation.

“ _Bombarda!”_

The mirror shattered, millions of shards of glass suddenly flying through the room. Quirrell, closest to the Mirror, screamed as they hit him. Harry flinched as he felt the shards lacerate his skin but sprang towards Voldemort, Hermione close behind.

Harry felt Quirrell’s hand close on his wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across their scar, the pain reverberating through the bond. He felt Hermione try to pull him back but to his surprise, Quirrell let go of him. They fell back to the ground, looking around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers – they were blistering before his eyes.

“Master, I cannot hold them – my hands – my hands!”

“Then kill them, fool, and be done!” screeched Voldemort.

Before Quirrell could raise his wand, Harry and Hermione sprung forward as one. Harry went for the wand hand, turning away the hand, while Hermione instinctively went for his face, her fingers digging into his eyes.

Quirrell screamed and thrashed, trying to throw them off as his face blistered under Hermione’s hands. The pain in their heads was building, the bond throbbing and pulsing dangerously, but Hermione kept digging her fingers into his eyes as he screamed. Neither could see any more, the pain blurring their vision, but they felt as Quirrell collapsed to the ground.

His terrible shrieks continued as he thrashed on the ground, Voldemort still screaming. Harry threw Quirrell’s wand away and clawed forward, reaching for the neck. He could feel Hermione’s presence faintly in his mind, the pain making her incoherent. He pushed down on Quirrell’s neck with his hands, feeling the skin begin to burn under his hands.

The noise seemed to be slipping further away, the bond now crackling bright green with power, and Harry had time to draw one last breath before the bond seemed to explode with power, and he fell into darkness.


	23. It's Not That Fucking Brilliant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments feed my soul.   
> Mind speak denoted by < xx >

Hermione could feel consciousness slowly returning to her, just as the light of dawn slowly slips over the horizon. She held her breath, not sure whether she wanted to know what the light would show. The last thing she remembered was the bond exploding in furious green light and the screaming pain in her head.

Hesitating, she slowly reached out with her mind and breathed a loud sigh of relief when she felt the bond still there. She followed it down into Harry’s mind, where she could feel him slowly starting to wake too. Calmer now, she relaxed back into what she could only assume was a hospital bed. She kept her eyes closed, waiting for Harry to join her.

< Mi Mi, where are we? > came his voice in her head.

< I assume the hospital wing, Me Me. Ready to face the light of day? > she replied.

Harry blinked and then blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him. < No, > he said. < Dumbledore is staring down at me. >

< Well, have fun. Tragically, I must still be unconscious, > Hermione quickly shot back.

< I’ll buy you a knife, > Harry offered. He grinned down the bond as her eyes flickered open.

“Good afternoon, Harry, Hermione,” said Dumbledore.

“Good afternoon, sir,” they replied, looking around the hospital wing. In between their beds was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet shop.

“Tokens from your friends and admirers,” said Dumbledore, beaming. “What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe the Weasley twins were responsible for trying to send you a lavatory seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it.”

“Sir, what happened to Neville?” Hermione asked quietly. “Is he OK?”

“And what happened to Quirrell? Did he get the Stone?” Harry added on.

“Neville is quite well. He performed admirably, getting out of the third-floor corridor and raising the alarm. He has been quite worried about both of you,” Dumbledore said.

“And the Stone?” they both asked.

“I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you.”

“And what happened to Quirrell and Voldemort?” they asked together. Harry continued on. “He’s going to try other ways of coming back, isn’t he? I mean, he hasn’t gone, has he?”

“No, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share … not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. His shade fled as Quirrell died. Nevertheless, while you two may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time – and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power.”

“Sir,” Hermione began, taking a deep breath in. “There are some other things we’d like to know the truth about.”

“The truth,” Dumbledore sighed. “It is a beautiful and terrible thing and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you’ll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie.”

< Or you could just tell us the truth, you miserable goat, > Hermione seethed, remaining outwardly placid. Harry took over.

“Voldemort said that he only killed our mother because she tried to stop him from killing us. But why would he want to kill us in the first place?” he said.

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time.

“Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day … put it from your mind for now, both of you. When you are older … I know you hate to hear this … when you are ready, you will know.”

“Why couldn’t Quirrell touch us?” Harry asked, before Hermione could open her mouth.

“Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realise that love as powerful as your mothers for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign … to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch either of you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.”

< We can kill a man with our bare hands because our mother loved us? > Hermione asked, looking down at her hands, half in horror.

“But sir, doesn’t that make us dangerous? What if we burn the wrong person?” Harry asked. “What if I decided I didn’t like Professor Snape? Would my touch burn him?”

Dumbledore looked uncomfortable for a moment, before slowly speaking. “I do not think that would happen. I think it was only because Quirrell shared his soul with Voldemort. Your mother’s protection is against him.”

< Which brings us back to why does Voldemort want to kill us, which he won’t answer, > Hermione said.

“Sir, there’s one more thing. How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?” Harry asked.

“Ah, now, I’m glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that’s saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone – find it, but not use it – would be able to get it, otherwise they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes.”

< It’s not that fucking brilliant, > Hermione seethed. < Voldemort figured the way around it by just using you as hostage. >

“Brilliant,” Hermione said, unable to keep the full bite from her voice. “But what will happen to the Stone now? Do we battle Voldemort at the end of every school year for it?”

< Happy smiles, Mi, > Harry said.

“The Stone has been destroyed,” Dumbledore replied.

< Well, he’s fucking lying, because it’s not even the real Stone, is it? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to get out multiple copies, > Hermione said. < I hate this old goat. >

< I just don’t understand why make the trap in the first place. Like what did it accomplish? It didn’t actually trap him or kill him. Nearly killed us but that’s about it, > Harry said.

< I think he wanted us to face him. I think he knew exactly what would happen and left just enough breadcrumbs for us to get there. Letting us see the Mirror, even that detention out in the Forest, > Hermione said.

Harry smiled up at the headmaster. “Thanks for answering all our questions, sir. Oh, and Hagrid has an illegal dragon egg. We thought we should tell someone.”


	24. Change of Decoration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few chapters to go  
> I hope everyone has enjoyed the story so far
> 
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >

Madam Pomfrey, the matron, was a nice woman, but very strict.

“Just five minutes,” Harry and Hermione pleaded.

“Absolutely not.”

“You let Professor Dumbledore in…”

“Well, of course, that was the Headmaster, quite different. You two need rest.”

“We are resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey…” they begged.

“Oh, very well,” she said. “But five minutes only.” And she let Neville in.

“Neville!” they chorused, smiling at their friend. Neville, in turn, looked miserable.

“Oh guys, I’m so glad you’re both ok – Dumbledore was so worried. The whole school’s talking about it,” he said.

“Neville, why do you look so miserable?” Hermione asked, gazing up at their friend, taking in all the worried lines on his face.

“It’s my fault!” he exclaimed.

“What?” Hermione said. “How is it your fault?”

“You guys came to rescue me. You never would have been in danger if I hadn’t been kidnapped. It is all my fault.”

“Neville,” Hermione said bluntly. “It is not your fault that Voldemort wants to kill us. If he hadn’t kidnapped you, he would have found some other way to get us down there. And you helped save us! We knew you’d be able to get out through all those obstacles once we freed you. We were relying on you, Neville. And you did great. So get that look of misery off your face. You’re a hero.”

“Yeah, what she said,” Harry said. “Now, have some sweets and tell us what we missed while we were unconscious.”

-/-

After another good night’s sleep, both Harry and Hermione felt nearly back to normal.

“We want to go to the feast,” they told Madam Pomfrey as she bustled around them. “We can, can’t we?”

“Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go,” she said sniffily, as though in her opinion Dumbledore didn’t realise how risky feasts could be. “And you have another visitor.”

< Who? > Hermione said. < Not to be bleak, but we really only have one friend. >

Hagrid sidled through the door as she spoke. As usual when he was indoors, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to them and promptly burst into tears.

“It’s – all – my – ruddy – fault!” he sobbed, his face in his hands. “I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn’t know an’ I told him! Yehs could’ve died. All fer a dragon egg! I’ll never drink again! I should be chucked out an’ made ter live as a Muggle!”

“Hagrid!” Harry said, shocked to see Hagrid shaking with grief and remorse, great tears leaking down into his beard. “Hagrid, he’d have found out somehow, this is Voldemort we’re talking about, he’d have found out if you hadn’t told him.”

“Yehs could’ve died!” sobbed Hagrid. “An’ don’ say the name!”

“VOLDEMORT!” Harry and Hermione yelled at once, and Hagrid was so shocked that he stopped crying.

“Please cheer up Hagrid. We beat him, it’s a happy ending,” Hermione said. “Have a Chocolate Frog, we’ve got loads…”

Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand and said, “That reminds me. I’ve got yehs a present.”

“It’s not a stoat sandwich, is it?” Hermione asked nervously. Hagrid gave a weak chuckle.

“Nah. Dumbledore gave me a few days off to … well, I had to send the dragon egg off to a reserve … but it gave me the time ter do this. Sent owls off ter all yer parents’ old school friends, askin’ fer photos … Knew yehs didn’ have any … D’yeh like it?”

It was a handsome, leather covered book and inside of it, full of wizard photographs, were their mother and father smiling and waving at them.

Neither of them could speak but Hagrid understood.

-/-

Harry and Hermione made their way down to the end-of-year feast later that night. They’d been held up by Madam Pomfrey’s fussing about, insisting on giving them one last check-up, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Ravenclaw colours of bronze and blue. A huge banner showing the Ravenclaw eagle covered the wall behind the High Table.

< Damnit, > Harry said, looking around. < They must have beaten Gryffindor by a bloody big margin to overtake us. >

There was a sudden hush when they entered the hall and then everybody started talking loudly at once. They quickly slipped into a seat at Slytherin table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at them.

< I said it at the start of the year, and I’ll say it again. I will fight all these staring motherfuckers, > Hermione said.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Dumbledore arrived moments later and the babble died away.

“Another year gone!” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “And I must trouble you with an old man’s wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were … you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts. Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding and the points stand thus: in fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Slytherin have four hundred and twenty-six and Ravenclaw, four hundred and seventy-two.”

A storm of cheering broke out from the Ravenclaw table.

“Yes, yes, well done, Ravenclaw,” said Dumbledore. “However, recent events must be taken into account.”

The room went very still.

< Oh no, > Hermione said. < I have a bad feeling about this. >

“Ahem,” said Dumbledore. “I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes … First, to Mr Neville Longbottom for his outstanding bravery, I award him fifty points.”

There was loud cheering from the Gryffindor table and Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. It meant they’d overtaken Hufflepuff and were no longer in last place. The Hufflepuff table was glaring at the raucous Gryffindor table.

< We should have stayed in the hospital wing, > Harry mused, as Dumbledore turned his gaze towards the Slytherin table.

“And to Miss Hermione Potter and Mr Harry Potter. For their determination, cool logic in the face of fire, and pure nerve, I award them both fifty points each.”

Slytherin table erupted. The normally calm and decorous table was yelling and banging their goblets on the tablet in excitement. Harry and Hermione were swamped under a wave of people eagerly patting them on the back and ruffling their hair.

“Which means,” Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, “we need a little change of decoration.”

He clapped his hands. In an instant, the blue and bronze hangings became green and silver; the huge eagle vanished and a towering Slytherin serpent took its place. Slytherin had won the House Cup for the seventh year in a row.


	25. Just Me and Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of my first Harry Potter story!!  
> Part 2 will be along soon.  
> Let me know what you think. 
> 
> Mind speak is denoted by < xx >

“Well, another year done and dusted,” Dumbledore said, looking around the staffroom. His cheer was not returned from the variety of professors gathered around him.

“Would you care to explain the events of the end-of-term feast?” asked Flitwick, with a hard look on his face.

“Indeed,” intoned Snape. “As pleased as I am with the final result, I won’t deny that the circumstances are … suspiciously timed. You could have awarded those points days ago.”

“Tell me honestly,” Dumbledore said, looking over his half-moon glasses. “What does everyone here think of the Potter twins?”

There was silence as the professors flicked glances back and forth, waiting to see who would go first. Eventually, Snape cleared his throat.

“I must confess, I was prepared to dislike them on principle. However, aside from looks, neither of them are like their parents. They are, however …” Snape paused, trying to find the right words. “They are odd. You will not find one without the other, and indeed, besides Neville Longbottom, I am not sure that they have even realised other people exist in this castle.”

“They’re hard-working and intelligent,” interjected Flitwick. “Hermione topped the Charms class, and I’ve never been able to fault them at all throughout the year.”

“She also topped my class,” said McGonagall. “And I know Harry has topped the defence class as well. But I find I must agree with Severus. They are odd. They speak as one most the time, which not even the Weasley twins manage to do.”

“At the end of this year, they faced down Quirrell as he attempted to steal the Philosopher’s Stone,” Dumbledore said. “But what I have not told you is that Voldemort was sharing Quirrell’s body, and so our young twins faced Voldemort for the second time in their short lives and emerged victorious again. In doing so, their hands burnt Quirrell to death, forcing Voldemort’s shade to flee.”

There was silence at his words, horror-struck faces on the professors.

“Their journey is only beginning,” Dumbledore said gravely. “And I fear that this will not be the last time they face down Voldemort. That is why I awarded them those points. They did deserve it and doing so at the end-of-term feast sends a message, both within Hogwarts and amongst the greater magical community.”

-/-

“You called for me, Headmaster?” Snape said, taking a seat in Dumbledore’s office.

“You didn’t say all that you meant to before,” Dumbledore said. “I’m curious as to what else you have noticed about the Potter twins.”

“Have you tried to read their minds at any stage this year?” asked Snape.

“No,” Dumbledore said, frowning. “Why?”

“Because I suspect you will find yourself unable to do so, if you try. I only tried once, much earlier in the year during class. I don’t know who else has noticed this, but they **never** speak to each other. They exchange glances, and occasionally in the company of others, they will speak. But when they are alone together, I have yet to hear them say one word. I tried during class when I realised that they had perfectly completed the potion without saying one word to each other and all I got was a flash of bright green light. There’s something not right about those two, Albus, and I don’t know what it is.”

-/-

< Me Me, > Hermione said, lying in her bed, staring up at the canopy. < This year hasn’t been all it was cracked up to be. >

< Really? What part wasn’t as advertised? > snarked Harry. She gave him a shove over the bond.

< I’m serious. At the start of the year, we were gonna learn about magic and make new friends and make sure we never go back to the Dursleys. Of those goals, which have we achieved properly? Over the next few weeks, we’ll find out if we’ve managed to escape the Dursleys. But despite all our careful learning in class this year, we nearly died at the hands of the man who murdered our parents, while rescuing the one friend we’ve managed to make. >

< What are you saying, Mi Mi? > Harry said quietly.

< That we need to do better. We need to be more prepared, we need to not rely on our hands maybe burning someone to death. We lived in our heads this year, Me Me. We need to try living in the real world more next year. >

< I guess we’ll make a plan for next year then, > Harry said, shoving down his trepidation. < Now, go to sleep. What do we have? >

< Just Me and Mi. What do we have? >

< Just me and mine. >

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!  
> Stay tuned for Part 2 coming soon.
> 
> For everyone who has read this story, thank you so much!!!   
> Feel free to leave a comment to let me know what you think, what your favourite part was, etc.   
> Hope you enjoy Part 2!


End file.
